Walkin' Blues
Johnson, Robert
I woke up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
Know 'bout 'at I got these, old walkin' blues
Woke up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
But you know 'bout 'at I, got these old walkin' blues
Lord, I feel like blowin' my woh old lonesome horn
Got up this mornin', my little Bernice was gone
Lord, I feel like blow ooohn' my lonesome horn
Well I got up this mornin' woh all I had was gone
Well ah leave this morn' of I have to, woh, ride the blind, ah
I've feel mistreated and I don't mind dyin'
Leavin' this morn' ah, I have to ride a blind
Babe, I been mistreated, baby, and I don't mind dyin'
Well, some people tell me that the worried, blues ain't bad
Worst old feelin' I most ever had, some
People tell me that these old worried old blues ain't bad
It's the worst old feelin', I most ever had
She got an Elgin movement from her head down to her toes
Break in on a dollar most anywhere she goes, oooh ooooh
(spoken: To her head down to her toes, oh, honey)
Lord, she break in on a dollar, most anywhere she goes
___________
Note: this song has so many things reminiscent of
Son House's style that it's probably a song Robert
learned from him. The rhythm, with the short rest
before each vocal phrase, has the same work-gang
phrasing that Son used in a number of his songs.
These songs were so closely linked to their
work-gang roots that they were still phrased with
that short pause left for what was probably an
(pick)axe blow. Chopping songs recorded in southern
prisons have this same characteristic form of a
short vocal line, the (pick)axes lifting while the
songster sings the phrase, then the sharp noise of
the (pick)axes hitting the (ground) tree, all of it
in a steady, slow rhythm that a strong chain-gang
could keep up for hours.
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