My Monday Blues

I walked all the way from East St. Louis jail
I did not have but one poor time

It wasn't for me, and either no poor soul
It was for that high brown-skinned [ermine?]

I started to walkin', and my feet got soakin' wet
I got to thinkin' 'bout my good gal, and I ain't quit walkin' yet

My Monday brownskin, works '22 on main
But my Tuesday brownskin brings me pocket change

But my Wednesday woman love whisky and sometimes do drink beer
But my Thursday girl give me the devil if she catch me here

My Friday good girl read me the daily news
But Thursday high-brown buys my socks and shoes

I've got a gal in Georgia, one in Louisiana, four in Chattanooga, six in Alabama
Four-five women right down in Memphis, Tеnnessee
If you don't like my peachеs, let my orchard be

When you see me comin', a-hoist your window high
And when you see me leavin', a-hang your head and cry

If you see Corinne, tell her I said hurry home
I had no lovin', since Corinne been gone

A good-lookin' woman 'll make a rabbit move his family to town
A bad-lookin' girl will make a mule kick the stable down