I'll keep my lamp trending burning,
His grace don't come cheap
I'm the son of Skip James,
I can't live without Sunday
Everybody ought to live right
So you can hear him say, well done
I'm the son of Skip James
Shucks, I can see you don't be lieve
You know you're smiling in my face
Boy, you got aces up your sleeve
Let me hear you play that song
There's a slow train a -comin'
I'm a life -givin' lover, baby
I'm the son of Skip James
Yeah, my father taught me well
I can't live without Sunday
It would be a burning hell
I don't read the Rolling Stones Man,
You got your little pet theories,
I'm the son of Skip James,
oh, my father taught me good
I don't do what I want to,
I do what I ought and what
Seven stars in his right hand
Seven trumpets are gonna sound
Seven lampstands like the wind
Seven scholars, seven crowns
But I'm not a loud old brass
I'm a lover, not a fighter,
but I could kick your ass
I don't do what I want to,
still love what I oughta and what I should