On a Greyhound bus, I'm traveling this mornin', I'm going to Shreveport and to New Orleans.You know, traveling these highways, Lord, I'm traveling these byways, it's been making me lonesome already.Now her hair was jet black, and her name was Bodine.Oh, she thought she was the queen of the Mason street cream, but she got tired of the smoky wine dream.She began feeling lonesome already.So we got together, and we cashed in our sweeps.And we gave it to some beggar, who was mumbling through the streets.And he stood there escaping from his cursed beggar's dream.He began looking lonesome already.Now I'm down in this valley, where the wheel turns so low.At dawn, I pray to the Lord of my soul.I say, oh Lord, won't you help me jump clean?You know I'm tired of being lonesome already.