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Lyrics | Artists: W | WEIRD AL YANKOVIC lyrics | Generic Blues lyrics

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<pre><font size='+2'>GENERIC BLUES lyrics WEIRD AL YANKOVIC</font><br>I woke up this mornin`,<br />
 Then I went back to bed.<br />
 Said I woke up this mornin`,<br />
 Then I went right back to bed.<br />
 Got a funny kinda feelin`,<br />
 Like I got broken glass in my underwear,<br />
 And a herd of wild pigs is tryin` to chew off my head.<br />
 You know what I`m sayin`?<br />
 <br />
 Well, I ain`t got no money,<br />
 I`m just walkin` down the road.<br />
 Said I ain`t got no money, honey,<br />
 So I`m just walkin` down this lonely old road.<br />
 Well, I wish I could get me some money,<br />
 But I forgot my automated teller code.<br />
 <br />
 I was born in a paper sack, in the bottom of a sewer.<br />
 I had to eat dirt clods for breakfast, my family was so poor,<br />
 My daddy was a waitress, my mama sold bathroom tile.<br />
 My brothers and sisters all hated me,`cause I was an only child.<br />
 I got the blues so bad.<br />
 Kinda wish I was dead.<br />
 Maybe I`ll blow my brains out, mama.<br />
 Or maybe I`ll, yeah, maybe I`ll just go bowlin` instead.<br />
 <br />
 I`m just a no-good, scum-sucking, nose-picking, boot-licking,<br />
    snivelling, grovelling worthless hunk of slime.<br />
 Nothin` but a low-down, beer-bellied, bone-headed, pigeon-toed,<br />
    turkey-necked, weasel-faced worthless hunk of slime.<br />
 I guess I`ve got a pretty low self-image,<br />
    maybe it`s a chemical imbalance or something.<br />
 I should probably go and see a doctor about it when I`ve got the time.<br />
 <br />
 Aw, make it talk, son, make it talk.<br />
 <br />
 Okay, now make it shut up.<br />
 <br />
 Plagues and famine and pestilence always seem to get me down.<br />
 I always feel so miserable whenever I`m around.<br />
 I wish somebody would come along, stick a pitchfork through my brain.<br />
 I`d flush myself right down the toilet, but I`d just clog up the drain.<br />
 I got the blues so bad,<br />
 Kinda wish I was dead.<br />
 Maybe I`ll blow my brains out, mama,<br />
 Or maybe I`ll go bowling.<br />
 Or I just might go bowling.<br />
 Maybe I`ll just rent some shoes and go bowling.<br />
 Maybe I`ll join a league, enter a tournament,<br />
    put on a stupid-lookin` shirt and go bowling,<br />
 Instead.<br><br><a href='http://www.lyricsbay.com' target='_blank'>LyricsBay</a> | <a href="http://www.lyricsbay.com/generic_blues_lyrics-weird_al_yankovic.html" target='_blank'>GENERIC BLUES lyrics WEIRD AL YANKOVIC</a></pre>

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Generic Blues lyrics translation:
WEIRD AL YANKOVIC Generic Blues song texte and letras
WEIRD AL YANKOVIC Generic Blues tab, paroles and testo
WEIRD AL YANKOVIC Generic Blues Karaoke and Music Video - none yet

Generic Blues lyrics

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I woke up this mornin`,
Then I went back to bed.
Said I woke up this mornin`,
Then I went right back to bed.
Got a funny kinda feelin`,
Like I got broken glass in my underwear,
And a herd of wild pigs is tryin` to chew off my head.
You know what I`m sayin`?

Well, I ain`t got no money,
I`m just walkin` down the road.
Said I ain`t got no money, honey,
So I`m just walkin` down this lonely old road.
Well, I wish I could get me some money,
But I forgot my automated teller code.

I was born in a paper sack, in the bottom of a sewer.
I had to eat dirt clods for breakfast, my family was so poor,
My daddy was a waitress, my mama sold bathroom tile.
My brothers and sisters all hated me,`cause I was an only child.
I got the blues so bad.
Kinda wish I was dead.
Maybe I`ll blow my brains out, mama.
Or maybe I`ll, yeah, maybe I`ll just go bowlin` instead.

I`m just a no-good, scum-sucking, nose-picking, boot-licking,
snivelling, grovelling worthless hunk of slime.
Nothin` but a low-down, beer-bellied, bone-headed, pigeon-toed,
turkey-necked, weasel-faced worthless hunk of slime.
I guess I`ve got a pretty low self-image,
maybe it`s a chemical imbalance or something.
I should probably go and see a doctor about it when I`ve got the time.

Aw, make it talk, son, make it talk.

Okay, now make it shut up.

Plagues and famine and pestilence always seem to get me down.
I always feel so miserable whenever I`m around.
I wish somebody would come along, stick a pitchfork through my brain.
I`d flush myself right down the toilet, but I`d just clog up the drain.
I got the blues so bad,
Kinda wish I was dead.
Maybe I`ll blow my brains out, mama,
Or maybe I`ll go bowling.
Or I just might go bowling.
Maybe I`ll just rent some shoes and go bowling.
Maybe I`ll join a league, enter a tournament,
put on a stupid-lookin` shirt and go bowling,
Instead.

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