Trouble and Whiskey Songtext
von Roosevelt Sykes

If the blues was whiskey, and trouble was a bottle of gin
If the blues was whiskey, and trouble was a bottle of gin
I would buy me a "Thirty-eight"
Special, and that′s where trouble would begin

I'm going to stop work, baby, and ramble from town to town
I′m gonna stop work, kind mama, and ramble from town to town
Because workin' ain't nothin′ but a
Habit, and I believe I′ll lay it down


Did you ever sit and wonder, what step must you take?
Did you ever sit and wonder, what step must you take?
If you can't be with the one you
Love, you just as soon jump in the lake

Soon, soon, kind mama, soon I′m gonna get my break
Soon, soon, kind mama, very soon I'll get my break
Hey, I found out you don′t mean me
No good, you ain't nothin′ but a fake

Don't get so good to me now, baby, because you have waited too late
Don't get so nice to me now, baby, because you have waited too late
All of your efforts, mama, is in vain,
Somebody else is ridin′ your freight