Send me an angel down
Can't spare no angel
Will spare you a teasin' brown
Well that new way of loving
Swear to god it must be best
For these Detroit women won't let mr. jack white rest
There's a crowd on the corner
Wonder what could it be
One thing but the womens is trying to get to me
I went down to the station
Suitcase in my hand
All the women run cryin'
Mr. Jack, won't you be my man?
Well there was three women
Yellow, brown and black
Take the mayor of Detroit to pick which one I like
One of 'em Amtrak yellow
One of 'em Detroit brown
But that southwest dark skin sure to turn my damper down
Why, ticket agent ticket agent
Where did my baby go
Tell me what she looks like
I'll tell you what road she's on
Well she's a long tall mama
A mile and a half from the ground
She's a tailor-man mama
And she ain't no hand me down
Well I used to say
Married women
Sweetest women never born
You better change that thing
You better leave married women alone
Take my advice let married women
Boy let 'em be
Cause their husband will grab ya
Beat your ragged ass to cedar street
I got two women
You can't tell 'em apart
I got one in my bosom
And the other is in my heart
Well that one in my bosom
She live in Tennessee
Well that one in my heart
She don't give a darn for me
I'm gonna tell you pretty mama
Exactly who I am
When I walk in that front door
And hear that back door slam
The White Stripes - Lord Send Me an Angel Lyrics
The White Stripes - Lord Send Me an Angel Lyrics
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Send me an angel down
Can't spare no angel
Will spare you a teasin' brown
Well that new way of loving
Swear to god it must be best
For these Detroit women won't let mr. jack white rest
There's a crowd on the corner
Wonder what could it be
One thing but the womens is trying to get to me
I went down to the station
Suitcase in my hand
All the women run cryin'
Mr. Jack, won't you be my man?
Well there was three women
Yellow, brown and black
Take the mayor of Detroit to pick which one I like
One of 'em Amtrak yellow
One of 'em Detroit brown
But that southwest dark skin sure to turn my damper down
Why, ticket agent ticket agent
Where did my baby go
Tell me what she looks like
I'll tell you what road she's on
Well she's a long tall mama
A mile and a half from the ground
She's a tailor-man mama
And she ain't no hand me down
Well I used to say
Married women
Sweetest women never born
You better change that thing
You better leave married women alone
Take my advice let married women
Boy let 'em be
Cause their husband will grab ya
Beat your ragged ass to cedar street
I got two women
You can't tell 'em apart
I got one in my bosom
And the other is in my heart
Well that one in my bosom
She live in Tennessee
Well that one in my heart
She don't give a darn for me
I'm gonna tell you pretty mama
Exactly who I am
When I walk in that front door
And hear that back door slam
Can't spare no angel
Will spare you a teasin' brown
Well that new way of loving
Swear to god it must be best
For these Detroit women won't let mr. jack white rest
There's a crowd on the corner
Wonder what could it be
One thing but the womens is trying to get to me
I went down to the station
Suitcase in my hand
All the women run cryin'
Mr. Jack, won't you be my man?
Well there was three women
Yellow, brown and black
Take the mayor of Detroit to pick which one I like
One of 'em Amtrak yellow
One of 'em Detroit brown
But that southwest dark skin sure to turn my damper down
Why, ticket agent ticket agent
Where did my baby go
Tell me what she looks like
I'll tell you what road she's on
Well she's a long tall mama
A mile and a half from the ground
She's a tailor-man mama
And she ain't no hand me down
Well I used to say
Married women
Sweetest women never born
You better change that thing
You better leave married women alone
Take my advice let married women
Boy let 'em be
Cause their husband will grab ya
Beat your ragged ass to cedar street
I got two women
You can't tell 'em apart
I got one in my bosom
And the other is in my heart
Well that one in my bosom
She live in Tennessee
Well that one in my heart
She don't give a darn for me
I'm gonna tell you pretty mama
Exactly who I am
When I walk in that front door
And hear that back door slam
Writer: WILLIE MCTELL
Copyright: Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing