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

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

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

Call all the
the ladies' aid
Call all the altos, sopranos, tenors, every bass
Well, all the Pentecostals
And bring anointing oil too
Well call the preacher the only one can reach her
And there ain't no to lose

When God-Fearin' women get the
There ain't no slap dab atellin' what they're do
Run around I gotta 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)

She's on all our lists
She's on all our
As for the cantata
We know who'll sing her part.

When women get the blues
There ain't no dab atellin' 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)