| This song is called harmonica talk |
| Pick up your soul, let your rhythm rock |
| First you roll left, then you roll right |
| Watching them blues jumping out of sight |
| When I wrote this song it was one of them days |
| One of them days that never pays |
| Looked about the house, looked upside down |
| My old guitar could not be found |
| So I grabbed my harp and played my best |
| Saw them blues jump away from my chest |
| This song is called harmonica talk |
| Pick up your soul, let your rhythm rock |
| First you roll left, then you roll right |
| Watching them blues jumping out of sight |