Blues with out Blame

I ask my baby for a nickel She gave me a twenty dollar bill I ask her for a drink of whiskey And she gave me a liquor still Whoa, yeah yeah yeah What can a poor boy do Ain't it hard, ain't it hard When you have to live the blues I call my baby on the telephone She said come on over Stevie I'm all alone I said I can't get my car started mama Whoa, yeah What can a poor boy do When he has to live the blues And while my baby's makin' it with my best friend I know I'm being used, yeah yeah yeah Lord have mercy Lord have mercy on me Lord have mercy Lord have mercy on me, yeah I'm tryin' to find my babe Won't somebody please, yeah yeah Won't somebody please bring her home to me