Ticket Agent-Curley Weaver
A position, standard tuning
"Good Lord, Good Lord, send me a angel down."
"Can't spare you no angel, but I'll spare you a teasin' brown."
"Ticket agent, ticket agent, how long that train been gone?
Ticket agent, tell me the road she's on."
I went to the station with my guitar in my hand
Crowd of women run to me, said, "Mr. Weaver, won't you be my man?"
There's a crowd on the corner, d'you reckon, who could it be?
Wasn't nothin' but a crowd of women tryin' to get to me
This new way of lovin', Great God, it must be best
'Cause Atlanta women just won't let poor Curley Weaver rest
My baby, she got a mojo, tryin' to keep it hid
Papa Weaver got somethin' to find that doggone mojo with
My Mama, she told me, I's a boy playin' mumble-peg
"Don't drink no black cow's milk, don't eat no black hen's egg."
Let me tell you, good buddy, double-crossin' women will do
They will have your buddy, come on play all sick on you
I don't believe no woman in the whole round world do right
Act like a angel in the daytime, but they's hell at night
I used to, to thought, married woman's the sweetest woman born
I changed that thing, you'd better leave married womens alone
Now listen, good buddy, huh, let all married women be
'Cause their husband'll grab you, beat you ragged as a cedar tree
I will back-bite you and gnaw you to the bone
Got ways like my Daddy and I can't leave womens alone
You may trust me, buddy, but I won't trust you
Get a chance wit' your woman, gnaw your backbone half in two
A hen at my home, she laid thirteen eggs a day
Old rooster got jealous and the doggone fool walked away
It makes no difference, baby, 'bout you change your lock and key
'Cause too many women want a hotshot like me
My Mama, she told me, I's just a boy 'bout nine years old
Says, "Son, you're gonna be some woman's sweet jellyroll."
A woman, she'll swear, loves you 'bout all her life
Meet that man 'round the corner, tell that doggone same lie twice
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