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

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

When women get the blues
There ain't no slap dab atellin' what gonna do
Run around yellin' I gotta it'll do eighty
You don't to be my baby
I've stirred my last 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 that anointing oil too
Well call the preacher the only one can reach her
And ain't no time to lose

When God-Fearin' get the blues
There ain't no slap dab atellin' what they're do
Run around I gotta 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
She's on all our
As for the Easter
We don't who'll sing her part.

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