Never treats me sweet and gentle
The way she should
I got it bad
And that ain't good

My poor heart is sentimental
Not made of wood
I got it bad
And that ain't good

When the weekend's over
Monday rolls around
I end up like I start out
Crying my heart out

Lord above me
Make her love me
The way that she should
I got it bad
And that ain't good

But when the fish are jumpin'
And Friday rolls around
My gal and I, we gin some
And pray some, sin some
Lord above me
Make her love me
The way she should
I got it bad, real bad
And that ain't good