New Talking Blues - lyrics

[Roaring20s]

This is a fun song and its style is very familiar to fans of Bob Dylan.
I could not find the lyrics on the internet, so I transcribed it from the record.
I love the images in this song.

You can hear a fragment of this at
https://itunes.apple.com/bn/artist/chri ... id42764912
Later generations used this style too
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rRxwMyOZX8

New Talking Blues, Columbia 15262-D, 1928
Chris Bouchillon, 1893 - 1968
American country music and blues musician from South Carolina.

I went down in Georgia to the county fair.
The birds and the monkeys and the lions were there.
The loin broke loose and started through the crowd,
and I couldn't help to holler out loud.
I felt runnish. Tore my britches, on a barbwire fence.

I went down in Florida to get rich quick.
I bought me a lot and a load of brick.
I got scared of the snakes and the alligators,
so I decided to come back later.
I don't like snakes. I'd rather die poor. Live a long time.

I took me a wife about five years ago.
We got one kid, he's about four.
He gets at the table and he slaps his Mah,
he rubs 'lasses in my hair and says 'Aint ye my Pah'.
Runs string beans up my nose. Sticks potatoes in my hair. Rubs mustard in my eyes.

Momma's in the pantry preparing the yeast.
Sister in the kitchen a fix'n for the feast.
Pappa's in the cellar a mix'n up the hops
Bother's at the window a watch'n for the cops.
Drink'n home brew. It makes you drunk. If you don't bust.

Up in the mountain at a liquor still.
Back in the mountain in the blue ridge hill.
I like the still and I likes its juice,
but I don't like the cops who cut it to sluice.
I jumped fearless. Run over speed cars. Dodge canon balls.

Stand'n in the corner by the white folks yard.
Up in the corner by a bucket of lard.
I greased my feet a little hog-eye lard,
went slipp'n up and down the white folks yard.
A hunt'n the cook. She gives me 'lasses, clabber and cornbread.

There aint no use in me work'n so much.
I got a gal that brings in the mush.
She works for the white folks down in Caroline.
She brings me everything from molasses to wine,
a home brew, chitlin, corn whiskey.

I went possum hunt'n the other night.
It is awful dark and I lost my light.
The dogs chased something way down in the flat,
we thought it was a possum, must have been a cat.
I lost my job. My wife run me off. Had to bury my clothes.

There aint no use my work'n so hard.
I got a gal in the white folks yard.
When she kills a turkey, she saves me the wing,
she thinks I'm a work'n but I aint doing a thing.
A rove'n the streets. Have'n a good time. Look'n at the Flappers.

[Henry]

Shortest blues lyric on record (with apologies to Weird Al):

Well I woke up this morning
And I went right back to bed.