Smoke Rings

I'm sitting down here this morning
Got no peace of mind and my soul hanging out on the table
Well, late last night I was impressing the ladies
And playing a short tune on my guitar
If I'm able

Now smoke rings fill the air
But there's nobody to hear
What I'm saying this morning

Whoa
Ya blues is a-coming my way

I just got back from a tour of the southlands
I couldn't find my needles and
All my troubles ain't got no labels
What do you think I found on my return
But a young boy lying in the cradle

Now smoke rings fill the air
But there's nobody to hear
What I'm saying this morning

Whoa
Ya blues is a-coming my way

Ladies love to weave their magic on a traveller boy
Who just happened to be there for the taking
Now everybody just loves to stand around and tell ya
'Bout the great big mistake you may be making

Now smoke rings fill the air
But there's nobody to hear
What I'm saying this morning

Whoa
Ya blues is a-coming my way

I'm sitting down here this morning
Got no peace of mind and my soul hanging out on the table
Late last night I was impressing the ladies
And playing a short tune on my guitar
If I'm able

Now smoke rings fill the air
But there's nobody to hear
What I'm saying this morning

Whoa
Ya blues is a-coming my way



Credits
Writer(s): Ned Washington, Gene Gifford
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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