Luyện nghe bài hát When God Fearin' Women Get The Blues

Lock up your
Lock up sons
Lock up your whiskey cabinets, lock up your guns
Lock up the beauty shop, and no if they've heard the news
Call the boys downtown at Neiman Marcus, 'em lock up them high-heeled shoes

God-Fearin' women get the blues
There ain't no slap dab what they're gonna do
Run around I gotta Mustang it'll do eighty
You don't to be my baby
I've stirred my last batch of
You don't to be my (be my, be my)

Call all the
the ladies' aid
Call all the altos, sopranos, tenors, call every
Well, all the Pentecostals
And bring anointing oil too
call the preacher he's the only one can reach her
And there no time to lose

God-Fearin' women get the blues
There ain't no slap dab atellin' what they're do
Run around yellin' I Mustang it'll do eighty
You don't have to be my
stirred my last batch of gravy
You don't to be my (be my, be my)

She's on all our lists
on all our hearts
As for the Easter
We don't know who'll her part.

When women get the blues
ain't no slap dab atellin' what they're gonna do
Run around yellin' I Mustang it'll do eighty
You have to be my baby
I've stirred my last batch of
You don't to be my (be my, be my)