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I might get to thinking
That I might could quit drinking
But then what else is there to do?

And it's this contemplation
That spurs conversation
With the ceiling that I been talking to

If I keep my hands working
It holds off the hurting
Till the work is all but through

But when the day's at a close
And I'm all alone
You can guess where my mind wanders to

And it's a feeling I've known
Since before I was grown
I'm howling, corralling the blues

And it's a feeling I've known
Since before I was grown
I'm howling, corralling the blues
I'm howling, corralling the blues

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