Rats in My Kitchen

For the Blues lovers out there.

Rats in my Kitchen

 

I got Rats in my kitchen,

I got a mind to be bitchin'

I'm free and easy twisting

a perfectly nasty cadence

with my six strings,

singing like I'm a star draw

at 'The bucket of blood,'

got a bone handled knife

it keeps my life

ongoing

makes other men’s wife's feel safe,

eliminates slow mindedness

some times I scrapes it up side 

my trusty singing strings,

drives women crazy

to shuffle their asses 

up and down the blood ingrained boards.

 

my fans think I'm your Jesus incarnate,

I think I'm closer Satan’s hounds o' Hell,

they sing so loud

they hardly needs me at all,

but I'm here for my stack of Dollars,

my fun with the women who wants me most,

and my fun reducing that stack.

 

cause I is so popular with the gals

I gots to watch the shifting eyes

'neath the Stetson hats,

cold as steel

they’d like to pierce me

with a stare

"I wasn’t born yesterday mother,"

I study my steps

and is now wise 

you take one at a time.

 

I cares for little

'cept delivering' the Blues

to the people like me,

that’s when I hit my natural peak!

and I is indulgent in seein'

you is comming with me

to the bottom of the river of whiskey,

the blues sustains me

been my real mother

since my baby left me.