Can't Get The Blues
C. Jones (Copyright 1977)

Woke up this morning, my car was running fine
It’s the first day this month that I made it to work on time
Strolled into my office, told my boss this job is too tough
He said “That’s not a problem, son, take the rest of the day off”
Don’t know what I’m gonna do, seems I can’t ever get the blues

I went on over to a downtown bar, to get myself a draft beer
I said “Hey Bartender, this draft is flat, I want some head with my beer”
She ran on around the bar, she put her arms around my waist
She said “Sounds like a double entendre, will it be your or my place?”
Don’t know what I’m gonna do, seems I can’t ever get the blues

Well, last Sunday morning I went to church, they started to pass the hat
The collection plate came down my isle, and tipped over right in my lap
Preacher said “It must be a sign, from the Holy Ghost, or maybe the Son”
He said “You can have that money”, so I picked it up and out the church door I did run
Don’t know what I’m gonna do, seems I can’t ever get the blues