T.B. Blues (WNYC - Folk Songs of America, Recorded 2/6/1941, Pt. 7)
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Lyrics
Down South and up North too, TB takes a tremendous toll
Among the Negroes. Lead Belly has made up a song
Which tells of the sorrows that result from this disease
And it's called by the unhappy name, the TB Blues
Now this is the TB Blues
Now this is dedicatin' day and I'm on my way
I'm dedicatin' this TB Blues to Mr. Shorty Wood and Miss Rose Wood
Now the first girl had the TB, she died
Woman didn't have but one child in the world, and that was a girl
Well, she had two or three boyfriends
The boyfriends would offer money, she wouldn't take it
The man that didn't have no money, she
Asked him for a dime, she loved him better
He didn't have it, she worried about it
When her mother come to the bed, she
Looked at her mother, here what she said
It's too late, too late, too late, too late, too late
It's too late, too late, too late, too late, too late
I'm on my way to Denver, Lord, and mama must I hesitate
TB's alright to have if your friends'll treat you so lowdown
TB's alright to have if your friends'll treat you so lowdown
Don't you ask them for no favor, they'll even stop a-comin' around
Mmm, the TB is killin' me
Mmm, TB is killin' me
My mama, I'm like a prisoner, I'm always workin' the street
When I'm low on my feet, couldn't even walk down the street
But the men's a-lookin' at me, from my head to my feet
But it's early now, the TB is killin' me
I want my body buried in the deep blue sea
Mmm
Mmm
I got a-tuberculosis consumptin' and killin'