Walkin down the track
guitar on my back
wonderin where the road's gonna take me next
devil had a plan
fiddle in his hand
told me I would sing for his rock and roll band
well I was born with marks
little tiny scars
shaped just like the hole on my guitar
Well I was born to sing the blues
Man that body stunk
threw it in the trunk
buried myself in that desert sun
well I would die with marks
many tiny scars
teach me not to mess with the devil's guitar
well I would die to sing the blues
I was born to sing the blues
There's a ghost inside of me that I can't shake loose
I was born to sing the blues
I was born with marks
little tiny scars
shaped just like the hole on my guitar
There's a ghost inside of me that I can't shake loose
Robert Johnson's back and he walks in my shoes
I was born to sing the blues
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