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

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

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

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

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

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

When God-Fearin' women get the
There ain't no slap dab atellin' what they're 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 don't to be my (be my, be my)