The blues have got my soul,
And they ainít letting go.
Iím trying to break loose, but it ainít no use.
I quit asking why,
íCause til the day I die
I know damn well I belong to the blues.
I go down to the track
And I bet my little stack.
Whichever horse I choose, I always lose.
I call my girl for a date.
She tells me Iím too late.
There ainít no doubt I belong to the blues.
The boss just let me go.
He says I work too slow.
And now I sure could use some good news.
But thereís no running from
Just what Iíve become:
Another man who belongs to the blues.