My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink And I Don't Love Jesus

My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus

(Oh my Lordy)

It's that kind of morning, really was that kind of night

Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin'

And if I don't die by Thursday, I'll be roarin' Friday night

Went down to the Snakepit

To drink a little beer

Listened to the jukebox

Merle was comin' in clear

All of a sudden, I wasn't alone

Pickin' country music with ol' Joe Bones

Duval Street was rockin'

My eyes, they starting poppin'

Because there she sat at the corner of the bar

As I broke another string on my old guitar

Someone call a cab

Lady, won't you pay my tab?

And now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus

(Oh my Lordy)

It's that kind of morning, really was that kind of night

Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin'

And if I don't die by Thursday, I'll be roarin' Friday night

Got to get a little orange juice

And a Darvon for my head

I can't spend all day

Baby, layin' in the bed

I'm goin' down to Fausto's, get some chocolate milk

Can't spend my life in your sheets of silk

I've got to find my way

Crawl out and greet the day

But now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus

(Oh my Lordy)

It's that kind of morning, really was that kind of night

Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin'

And if I don't die by Thursday, I'll be roarin' Friday night

Let me tell you, I'll be roarin' Friday night

I mean I'll be roarin' Friday night