Talking to Myself by Willie McTell

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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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