Just for Reference: Two Takes on the Same Theme

Some copywork that is a propos of this morning's work over @ the Blue Light.

Rob't Johnson, "I Beleive I'll Dust My Broom"

I'm goin' get up in the mornin', I believe I'll dust my broom
I'm goin' get up in the mornin', I believe I'll dust my broom
Girlfriend, the black man you been lovin', girlfriend, can get my room

I'm gon' write a letter, telephone every town I know
I'm gon' write a letter, telephone every town I know
If I can't find her in West Helena, she must be in East Monroe I know

I don't want no woman, wants every downtown man she meet
I don't want no woman, wants every downtown man she meet
She's a no good doney, they shouldn't allow her on the street

I believe, I believe I'll go back home
I believe, I believe I'll go back home
You can mistreat me here, babe, but you can't when I go home

And I'm gettin' up in the mornin', I believe I'll dust my broom
I'm gettin' up in the mornin', I believe I'll dust my broom
Girlfriend, the black man you been lovin', girlfriend, can get my room

I'm gonna call up Chiney, see is my good girl over there
I'm gonna call up China, see is my good girl over there
'F I can't find her on Philippine's island, she must be in Ethiopia somewhere

Kokomo Arnold, "Sissy Man Blues"

I believe, I believe I'll go back home.
I believe, I believe I'll go back home.
Only to acknowledge to my good gal, mama, lord, and I have done you wrong.

Now, I'm gonna ring up China, yeah, man, see if I find my good gal over there.
(Ride it, Kokomo, ride it.)

I'm gonna ring up China, see can I find my good gal over there.
Says the Good Book tella me that I got a good gal in this world somewhere.

Hollerin' the church bells is tonin', yeah, man, on one Sunday mornin'.
(Boys, that's old Kokomo.)

Hollerin' the ohurch bell is tonin' on one Sunday mornin'.
Hollerin' some old dirty deacon come and rung that bell, stole my gal and gone.
(Play it, Kokomo.)

Lord, I woke up this mornin' with my pork grindin' business in my hand.

Says I woke up this morning with my pork grindin' business in my hand.
Lord, if you can't send me no woman, please send me some sissy man.

I'm gonna sing these blues, mama, yeah, man, and I'm gonna lay 'em upon your shelf.
Now, I'm gonna slng these blues, mama, and I'm gonna lay 'em upon your shelf.
Lord, lf you wanna hear these blues again, mama, well you sure gonna sing them yourself.
(Now, play It, Mr Koke.)