Luyện nghe bài hát When God-Fearin' Women Get the Blues (Intro)

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

When God-Fearin' women get the
There ain't no slap dab what they're gonna do
Run around yellin' I Mustang it'll do eighty
You don't have to be my
I've stirred my last batch of
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 he's the only one can her
And there ain't no time to

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

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

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