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"Talking to Myself"
A guitar blues sung by "Blind" Willie McTell in 1930. He was known at this time as "Blind Sammie."

E-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo
E-wo-wo
E-wo-wo-wo-wo

Good Lord, Good Lord, send me an angel down
Can't spare you no angel but i'll swear i'll send you a teasin' brown

That new way of loving
Mama it must be best
These georgia women just won't let Mister Samuel rest

There was a crowd out on the corner,
Wondered who could it be
It won't a thing but the women trying to get to me

I even went down to the depot
With my suitcase in my hand
Crowd of women runs crying, Mister Samuel won't you be my man

My mama, she told me, when I was a boy playing mumbly peg
Don't you drink no black cow's milk,
Don't you eat no black hen's egg

Black man give you a dollar mama,
He won't think it's nothing strange
Yallar man give you a dollar but he'll want back ninety-five cents change

You may call me a cheater
pretty boy I will cheat you
If you allow me a chance i'll gnaw your backbone half in two

I took a trip out on the ocean, was the sound of the deep blue sea
I found a crab with a swim trying to do the shimmy-shea

I want to tell you something Mama
Seems mighty doggone strange
You done mess around gal and made me break my yo-yo string

I ain't gonna be your old work ox no more
You done mess around babe and let your doggone ox get poor

My mama, she got a mojo, believe she try to keep it hid
Papa Samuel got something to find that mojo with

(take it from me)

I even heard a rumbling, deep down in the ground
It won't a thing but the women trying to run me down

(play it low and lonesome)

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