County Jail Blues Songtext
von J. T. “Funny Paper” Smith

Come on all you people hear me tell my sad tale
Come on all you people hear me tell my sad tale
I′m through with all of my worries, and I don't even want no bail
I killed my woman, I′m in a hurry, I'm going to the county jail

Judge here I am this mornin' and here′s my Forty-five
Judge here I am this mornin′ and here's my Forty-five
Here I am, Judge, this mornin′ and here is my Forty-five
I shot my woman on the other corner and I don't know whether she′s dead or alive


Now don't ask me no questions, Judge about how our troubles begin
Now don′t ask me no questions, Judge about how our troubles begin
Judge don't ask me no questions 'bout how our trouble begin
Just have it printed in you paper, little trouble ′tween women and men

Oh Lord I heard that old judge say ninety-nine
Oh Lord I heard that old judge say ninety-nine
Oh Lord I heard that old judge say ninety-nine
And it′s one thing I wish I had this mornin' and that′s that Forty-five of mine

Well I'm gonna lay down in jail like I used to lay down way out on Calumet
Well I′m gonna lay down in jail like I used to lay down way out on Calumet
I'm gonna lay down like I used to lay down way out on Calumet
Maybe good luck to you ′cause I haven't forgot you yet