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

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

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

Call all the
the ladies' aid
Call all the altos, sopranos, tenors, call bass
Well, call all the
And bring that oil too
Well the preacher he's the only one can reach her
And ain't no time to lose

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

She's on all our lists
She's on all our
As for the cantata
We don't who'll sing her part.

When God-Fearin' 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 my last batch of gravy
You have to be my (be my, be my)