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Oh my name is Leona Barnett
I snap my fingers and itâs like a castanet
my man drove a coal car and the coal car wrecked
now I go workin in the mine
Cause there ainât no other work and i hear told
that cruel black dust turn right into gold
for those suitcase men that do control
maybe Iâll get a little for my time
I donât know who I trouble more
the mean ol devil or the good ol lord
the mean ol devil or the good ol lord
all the women say donât look in my eyes
cause I carry death like a cold fox bite
I am as hard as a railroad spike
that holds down this track Iâm travelin on
I donât know who I trouble more
the mean ol devil or the good ol lord
the mean ol devil or the good ol lord
high in the day and still no sun
the fog it lingers like smoke from a gun
down in the hole donât matter to know one
cause like anyone Iâm just waitin here to die
I donât know who I trouble more
the mean ol devil or the good ol lord
the mean ol devil or the good ol lord
the mean ol devil or the good ol lord
- Album:
- Ghost of Browder Holler