My Baby Done Packed Up and Left and Took All Them Bandages
I got me a nasty paper cut on my fanger
And I cain't find me a decent Band-Aid.
Yeah, I got a real nasty paper cut on my fanger
And I cain't find me a decent Band-Aid.
No, nowhere. Cain't find one, baby.
Now the blood is getting' all over ever-thang,
Includin' this here blues poem I done made.
(actually, I didn't get blood on the blogged version of this - I really made the mess on the tree-death [printable] version; click here to see!)
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