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Hey Mama, My Time Ain’t Long - Ray Wylie Hubbard
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Hey Mama, My Time Ain’t Long Ray Wylie Hubbard

Hey Mama, My Time Ain’t Long - Ray Wylie Hubbard
[Verse]
Children let me tell you 'bout the songs the bluesmen sings
Comes from a woman’s moans and the squeaks of guitar strings
Some say it’s the devil jingling the coins in his pockets
I say it sounds more like a pistol when you cock it

[Chorus]
Hey, mama, I believe my time ain’t long
Hey, mama, I believe my time ain’t long

[Verse]
Ah children let me tell you about the songs the angels sing
In the alleys of heaven with regret and broken wings
Some sing about the holy, pray and bow their heads
Some sing smokestack lightnin' and light up Marlborough reds

[Chorus]
Hey, mama, I believe my time ain’t long
Hey, mama, I believe my time ain’t long

[Verse]
Now there's tramps in Paris dressed in Brussels lace
And sailors in Baltimore who have fallen from grace
And there’s some shovels and rope that’ll never get clean
And there's the faithful singing sister morphine
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