(by Willie Dixon)

I'm so tired of moaning, trying to groan away my blues.
I'm so tired of moaning, trying to groan away my blues.
I keep weeping and crying every time I think of you. 

I would rather die of starvation, perish out in the desert sun,
I would rather die of starvation, perish out in the desert sun,
Than to think of some other man holding you in his arms. 

My heart gets so heavy, Lord I shakes down in my bones.
My heart gets so heavy, Lord I shakes down in my bones.
I can't hurt a murderer, oh Lord, but I'm forced to weep and moan.