John Craggie--Tumbling Dice

 

Mmm yeah! (Woo, woo)
Women think I'm tasty, but they're always tryin' to waste me
Make me burn the candle right down
But, baby, baby, don't need no jewels in my crown
'Cause all you women is low down gamblers
Cheatin' like I don't know how
Baby, got no flavor, fever in the funk house now
This low down bitchin' got my poor feet a itchin'
Don't you know you know the duece is still wild
Baby, I can't stay, you got to roll me
And call me the tumblin' dice
Always in a hurry, I never stop to worry
Don't you see the time flashin' by
Honey, got no money
I'm all sixes and sevens and nines
Say now baby, I'm the rank outsider
You can be my partner in crime
Baby, I can't stay
You got to roll me and call me the tumblin'
Roll me and call me the tumblin' dice
Now baby
Oh my, my, my, I'm the lone crap shooter
Playin' the field ev'ry night
Baby, I can't stay
You got to roll me and call me the tumblin' dice (Call me the tumblin')
Got to roll me (ya yes), got to roll me, got to roll me (Oh yeah)
Got to roll me
Got to roll me (yeah)
Got to roll me (Keep on rolling)
Got to roll me (Keep on rolling)
Got to roll me (Keep on rolling)
Got to roll me
Call me the tumblin' dice, yeah
Got to roll me
Got to roll me
Baby sweet as sugar (Got to roll me)
Yeah, my, my, my yeah (Got to roll me)
Now now now now (Got to roll me)
I went down baby, oh
Got to roll me (hit me)
Baby I'm down

Juarez--Sam Baker

 

Juarez

He wears a blue suede cowboy hat

Got a Juarez women stretched out on his lap

He sings an old song

A song to himself

He sings waiting 'round to die 

​

You see, one border whorehouse it looks just like another

But he first came to this one with his father and his brother

Now, nobody cares one way or another

He sings an old song

A song to himself

He sings waiting 'round to die 

​

Well there's a plump woman, she's attending bar

He holds hands with another plump woman named Starr

Lays a twenty on the table by the pigs feet jar

Sings an old song

Song to himself

He sings waiting 'round to die 

​

There's a beautiful woman

She wraps around his shoulder

Eyes painted like clay

Except colder

She says hell of a deal

ain’t it

Getting older

​

Waiting 'round to die

He sings waiting 'round to die

Waiting 'round to die

He sings waiting 'round to die

​

He thinks 

Who in the world would write a song like that

Then the two plump women

Start laughing at his hat

So he pulls another twenty out

Just like that

​

Sings an old song, song to himself

He sings waiting 'round to die

​

He wears a blue suede cowboy hat

Got a woman in her underwear sitting on his lap

He sings an old song

A song to himself

He sings waiting 'round to die 

He sings an old song

A song to himself

He sings waiting 'round to die

​