Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Robert Wilkins
Robert Wilkins
Acoustic Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Robert Wilkins
Robert Wilkins
Songwriter

Lyrics

I'm goin' home, friends, sit down and tell my, my mama Friends, sit down and tell my mama I'm goin' home, sit down and tell my mama I'm goin' home, sit down and tell my mama That that's no way to get along These low-down women, mama, they treated your, ahw, poor son wrong Mama, treated me wrong These low-down women, mama, treated your poor son wrong These low-down women, mama, treated your poor son wrong And that's no way for him to get along They treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone Mama, made of a rock or stone Treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone Treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone And that's no way for me to get along You know, that was enough, mama, to make your son wished he's dead and gone Mama, wished I's dead and gone That is enough to make your son, mama, wished he's dead and gone That is enough to make your son, mama, wished he's dead and gone 'Cause that's no way for him to get along I stood on the roadside, I cried alone, all by myself I cried alone by myself I stood on the roadside and cried alone by myself I stood on the roadside and cried alone by myself Cryin', "That's no way for me to get along" I's wantin' some train to come along and take me away from here Friends, take me away from here Some train to come along and take me away from here Some train to come along and take me away from here And that's no way for me to get along
Writer(s): Rev. Robert Wilkins Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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