Jim Jackson - My Monday Blues lyrics

I walked all the way from East St. Louis here I did not have but one poor dime It wasn't for me and either no poor soul It was for that high brown-skinned of mine I started to walkin' and my feet got soakin' wet I got to thinkin' 'bout my good gal and I ain't quit walkin' yet My Monday brownskin works 22 on Main But my Tuesday brownskin brings me pocket change But my Wednesday woman loves whiskey and sometimes do drink beer But my Thursday girl give me the devil if she catch me here My Friday good girl reads me the daily news But my Saturday high brown buys my socks and shoes I've got a gal in Georgia, one in Lou'siana Four in Chattanooga, six in Alabama Four, five women, right down in Memphis, Tennessee If you don't like my peaches, let my orchard be When you see me comin', a-heist your window high And when you see me leavin', hang your head and cry If you see Corinne, tell her I say hurry home I ain't had no lovin' since Corinne been gone A good-lookin' woman'll make a rabbit move his family to town And a bad-lookin' gal will make a mule kick his stable down