Blues With Out Blame Lyrics - Steve Miller

Blues With Out Blame
I ask my baby for a nickelShe gave me a twenty dollar billI ask her for a drink of whiskeyAnd she gave me a liquor stillWhoa, yeah yeah yeahWhat can a poor boy doAin't it hard, ain't it hardWhen you have to live the bluesI call my baby on the telephoneShe said come on over Stevie I'm all aloneI said I can't get my car started mamaWhoa, yeahWhat can a poor boy doWhen he has to live the bluesAnd while my baby's makin' it with my best friendI know I'm being used, yeah yeah yeahLord have mercyLord have mercy on meLord have mercyLord have mercy on me, yeahI'm tryin' to find my babeWon't somebody please, yeah yeahWon't somebody please bring her home to me