At Fillmore East

Wake up momma, turn your lamp down low;
Wake up momma, turn your lamp down low.
You got no nerve baby, to turn uncle john from your door.

I woke up this morning, i had them statesboro blues,
I woke up this morning, had them statesboro blues.
Well, i looked over in the corner, and grandpa seemed to have them too.

Well my momma died and left me,
My poppa died and left me,
I ain't good looking baby,
Want someone sweet and kind.

I'm goin' to the country, baby do you wanna go?
But if you can't make it baby, your sister lucille said she wanna go.
(and i sure will take her).

I love that woman, better than any woman i've ever seen;
Well, i love that woman, better than any woman i've ever seen.
Well, now, she treat me like a king, yeah, yeah, yeah,
I treat her like a dog gone queen.

Wake up momma, turn your lamp down low.
Wake up momma, turn your lamp down low.
You got no nerve babe, to turn uncle john from your door.

You don't love me, pretty baby,
You don't love me, yes i know.
You don't love me, pretty baby
You don't love me, yes i know.
Well if you leave me, pretty baby
Don't you know you're gonna hurt me so.
Well i'm gonna tell my mother,
I'm gonna talk to my father too.
Well i'm gonna tell my sweet mother,
I'll have a word with my father too.
Well i'm gonna tell everybody,
What those young girls will do to you.
Goodbye now, pretty baby,
If i don't see you no more.
Lord, goodbye now, pretty baby,
If i never see you no more.
Well if you think i'll be your fool, lord,
You better be on your merry way.

I been run down, i been lied to,
I don't know why i let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecked my new car.
Now she's with one of my goodtime buddies,
They're drinkin' in some crosstown bar.

Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.

My friends tell me, that i've been such a fool,
And i have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin' you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and i look at what you've down.
But nothin' seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And i can't run.

Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.

Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.

Transcribed by rich kulawiec, rsk@ecn.purdue.edu

By forrest richard betts
(c) 1970 & 1974 by no exit music co., inc.

Instrumental