goin' down the road feelin' bad

i'm going down this road feeling bad

bad luck's all i've ever had

going down this road feeling bad

lord

lord

and i ain't gonna be treated this a-way

got me way down in jail on my knees

this old jailer he sure is hard to please

feed me on corn

bread and peas

lord

lord

and i ain't gonna be treated this a-way

sweet mama

won't buy me no shoes

lord

she's left me with these lonesome jailhouse blues

my sweet mama won't buy me no shoes

lord

lord

and i ain't gonna be treated this a-way

and these two-dollar shoes hurt my feet

the jailer won't give me enough to eat

these two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet

lord

lord

and i ain't gonna be treated this a-way

i'm going where the climate suits my clothes

lord

i'm going where these chilly winds never blow

i'm going where the climate suits my clothes

lord

lord

and i ain't gonna be treated this a-way

yes

i'm going down the road feeling bad

lord

lord

lord

i'm going down the road feeling bad

bad luck is all i've ever had

and i ain't gonna be treated this a-way