Carl Perkins - Goin' Down the Road Feelin' Bad lyrics

I'm going down this road feeling bad Bad luck's all I've ever had Going down this road feeling bad, Lord, Lord And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way Got me way down in jail on my knees This old jailer he sure is hard to please Feed me on corn, bread and peas, Lord, Lord And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way Sweet mama, won't buy me no shoes Lord, she's left me with these lonesome jailhouse blues My sweet mama won't buy me no shoes, Lord, Lord And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way And these two-dollar shoes hurt my feet The jailer won't give me enough to eat These two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet, Lord, Lord And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way I'm going where the climate suits my clothes Lord, I'm going where these chilly winds never blow I'm going where the climate suits my clothes, Lord, Lord And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way Yes, I'm going down the road feeling bad, Lord, Lord Lord, I'm going down the road feeling bad Bad luck is all I've ever had And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way