Papa I ain’t working in no factory any more Got my suitcase and I’m leaving town Ain’t no fun packing cotton shirts Look after Mama I’ll write and tell her where I’ve gone I’m on the road, heading north, From Memphis Tennesse
Tell those good old boys To look me up in New York Where you can drink And throw the dice till dawn Tell those good old boys To look me up in New York I’m living rough but looking for a job I ain’t got no money Ain’t got a dime But I’ve got desire Running down my spine
Papa I am tired of working my fingers to the bone The sun is rising and I’m sweating dawn to dusk Mary-Lou is looking pretty as a picture And when I’m settled I’ll send a ticket for the bus A Greyhound ride, Ten thousand miles from Memphis Tennesse
MEMPHIS - Lyrics - continued
Tell those good old boys To look me up in New York Everyone knows It’s the place to be Tell those good old boys To look me up in New York She stole the heart of a country boy like me I ain’t got no money Just got a smile But I’ve got sincerity running down my spine
Thirty years of working hard in New York The deep south keeps visiting my dreams Mary-Lou and I got married Got nine kids who want to see where their Daddy lived I’m going home Heading south To Memphis Tennesse
Tell those good old boys I’m coming home from New York Be at the station Waiting there for me Tell those good old boys I’m coming back from New York Stand by the line And look me in the eye I still got no money But that ain’t a crime But I got my boys standing by my side
