Other cover

My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, And I Don't Love Jesus Paroles

Jimmy Buffett

Album Other

Paroles de My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, And I Don't Love Jesus

Chorus:
My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus (oh my lordy it's that...)
It's that kind of mornin'
Really was that kind of night
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin'
And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night
Went down to the snake pit
To drink a little beer
Listen to the jukebox
Merle was comin' in clear
All of a sudden I wad'n alone
Pickin' country music with ol' Joe Bones
Duval Street was rockin'
My eyes they starting poppin'
Because there she sat at the corner of the bar
As I broke another string on my ol' guitar
Someone call a cab
Lady won'tcha pay my tab
Chorus:
And now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus
(oh my lordy it's that...)
It's that kinda mornin'
Really was that kinda night
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin'
And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night
Gotta get a little orange juice Can't spend my life in yer sheets of silk
I've got to find my way
Crawl out and greet the day
Chorus:
But now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus
(oh my lordy it's that...)
It's that kinda mornin'
Really was that kinda night
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin'
And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night
Let me tell ya, I be roarin' Friday night
I mean I'll be
Roarin'
Friday
Night