Karaoké My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink and I Don't Love Jesus Jimmy Buffett
02:37
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Paroles
My head hurts
My feet stink and I don't love Jesus
It's that kind of mornin'
Really was that kind of night
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' and if
I don't die by Thursday
I'll be roarin' Friday night
Went down to the snake pit to drink a little beer
Listen to the jukebox
Merle was comin' in clear
All of a sudden I wad'n alone
Pickin' country music with ol' Joe Bones
Duval Street was rockin'
My eyes they started poppin'
Because there she sat at the corner of the bar as I broke another string on my ol' guitar
Someone call a cab
Lady won't ya pay my tab
And now my head hurts
My feet stink and I don't love Jesus
It's that kinda mornin'
Really was that kinda night
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' and if
I don't die by Thursday
I'll be roarin' Friday night
Gotta get a little orange juice and a Darvon for my head
I can't spend all day baby layin' in the bed
I'm goin' down to Fausto's get some chocolate milk
Can't spend my life in yer sheets of silk
I've got to find my way
Crawl out and greet the day
But now my head hurts
My feet stink and I don't love Jesus
It's that kinda mornin'
Really was that kinda night
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' and if
I don't die by Thursday
I'll be roarin' Friday night
Let me tell ya I be roarin' Friday night
I mean I'll be roarin'
Friday night
Informations
Rendu célèbre par Jimmy Buffett
Auteur-Compositeur : Jimmy Buffett
Toute reproduction interdite
Cet enregistrement est une reprise de My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink and I Don't Love Jesus rendu célèbre par Jimmy Buffett