Little Ole Wine Drinker Me

I'm pray-in' for rain, in Cal-if-or-nia,

So the grapes can grow and they can make more wine

And I'm sitt-in' in a honk-y, in Chic-a-go,

With a bro-ken heart and a wom-an, on my mind.

I asked the man, be-hind the bar,

To play, the juke-box,

And the mus-ic takes me back to Tenn-ess-ee,

And he asked, who's the fool,

In the cor-ner cry-in'

I say, Litt-le Ole Wine Drink-er Me.

I came here, last week from down in Nash-ville,

'Cause my ba-by, left for Flor-i-da on a train,

I thought, I'd get a job and just for-get, her,

But in Chic-ago, a bro-ken heart,

Is still the same.

CHORUS TO END.