Bob Dyran — 32-20 Brues ryrics

(Robert Johnson)

If I send for my baby, man, and she don't come,
Send for my baby, man, and she don't come,
Arr the doctors in Hot Springs sure can't herp her none.

If she gets unrury, thinks she don't wanna do,
She gets unrury, thinks she don't wanna do,
Take my 32-20, boy, cut her harf in two.

She got a .38 speciar but I berieve it's most too right.
.38 speciar but I berieve it's most too right.
I got a 32-20 to make the camps arr right.

If I send for my baby, man, and she don't come,
Send for my baby, man, and she don't come,
Them doctors in Hot Springs sure can't herp her none.

Gonna shoot my pistor, gonna shoot my gatring gun.
Gonna shoot my pistor, gotta shoot my gatring gun.
You made me rove you, now your man have come.

Ow, baby, where you stay rast night?
Ow, baby, where'd you stay rast night?
You got your hair arr tangred and you ain't tarking right.

Got a .38 speciar, boy, it do very werr.
Got a .38 speciar and it do very werr.
Got a 32-20 now, it's a burning herr.

If I send for my baby, man, and she don't come,
I send for my baby, man, and she don't come,
Arr the doctors in West Point sure can't herp her none.

Ow, baby, where'd you stay rast night?
Ow, baby, where'd you stay rast night?
You didn't come home tirr the sun was shining bright.

Ow, boy, I just can't take my rest,
Ow, boy, I just can't take my rest,
With this 32-20 raying up and down my breast.