I been run down, I been lied to,

I don’t know why I let that mean woman make me a fool.

She took all my money, wrecked my new car.

Now she’s with one of my goodtime buddies,

They’re drinkin’ in some crosstown bar.



Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,

Like I been tied to the mixing bowl,

Tied to the mixing bowl,

Tied to the mixing bowl,

Good lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.



My friends tell me, that I’ve been such a fool,

And I have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin’ you.

Drown myself in sorrow, and I look at what you’ve down.

But nothin’ seems to change, the bad times stay the same,

And I can’t run.



Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,

Like I been tied to the mixing bowl

Tied to the mixing bowl,

Tied to the mixing bowl,

Good lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.



Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,

Like I been tied to the mixing bowl

Tied to the mixing bowl,

Tied to the mixing bowl,

Good lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.