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T.B. Is Killing Me
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John Lee Hooker
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1
Now, but, oh, the T.B is killing me
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Oh, yeah, baby, the T.B is killing me
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Yes, I want my body buried
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Way down in Jackson, Tennessee
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When I was on my bed afflicted, baby
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You didn't even down to come around
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When I was sick and in my bed, baby
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You wouldn't even down to come around
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And you know one thing, baby
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The TB was killing me
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When I was up on my feet
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I had friends all over town
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When I was up on my feet
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I had friends all over town
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But when I got sick and in my bed
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I didn't have a friend that came around
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Oh, now, the TB is killing
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I declare, I declare, I declare
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Don't you know the TB is killing me?
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Someone should write to my mother
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Lord, and tell her the shape I in
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I sit by your will, everybody
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I believe this is the end
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I sit by your will, everybody
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And don't you know
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And don't you know
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The TB is killing me?
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