7

Well, Lord, I got to raise a fuss, Lord, I got to raise a holler About a-workin' all summer just to try to earn a dollar Well, Lord, I tried to call my baby, I tried to get a date Sometimes I wonder what I'm a-gonna do Lord, there ain't no cure for the summertime blues Well, my mom and papa told me, "Son, you got to make some money" "Well, if you wanna use the car to go a ridin' next Sunday" Oh, Lord, I didn't go to work, I told the boss I was sick, said Sometimes I wonder what I'm a-gonna do Lord, there ain't no cure for the summertime blues I've got to take three weeks, I've got to have a fine vacation I got to take my problem to the United Nations I done told my Congressman and he said quote, "Dig this boy" Sometimes I wonder what I'm a-gonna do Lord, there ain't no cure for the summertime blues Oh! I've got to take three weeks, I've got to have a fine vacation I got to take my problem to the United Nations I done told my Congressman and he said quote, "Dig this boy" Sometimes I wonder what I'm a-gonna do Lord, there ain't no cure for the summertime blues Whoa, there ain't no cure

Submitted by The Void — Feb 27, 2026

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

A cold, cold darkness and past confusion Is quickly calling, yeah, all of my illusions Now won't somebody, tell me what's wrong Tell me what's wrong with me From within, the magic madness I could feel deep in my heart a little bit of gladness Now won't somebody tell me what's wrong Tell me what's wrong with me Won't somebody tell me what's wrong? Oh Lord, I been searchin', searchin' so long Won't somebody, won't somebody Tell me what's wrong with me? Won't somebody tell me what's wrong? Oh Lord, I been searchin', searchin' so long Won't somebody, won't somebody Tell me what's wrong with me? And then from out of a mystic dream There came an angel, she spread her wings Now don't nobody tell me what's wrong Tell me what's wrong with me

Submitted by The Void — Feb 27, 2026

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

(Dickie Peterson) Why don't you ride in it, babe Why don't you ride in my Cadillac Come on and ride in it, babe Why don't you ride in my Cadillac You know my window's rolled down And baby, my seat is back Well tell me baby, what'd you-what'd you think about that! Ride in it, babe Ride in it, babe Ride in my, my, my Blues Cadillac! I'm gonna run it on strong with high-grain alcohol I said I'll run it on strong with high-grain alcohol And she might even compete, Show it's nimble roll I tell you baby, baby that ain't all Ride in it, babe Ride in it, babe Ride in my, my, my Blues Cadillac! (Come back here awhile, yeah!) Said she's a storm flyin' buggy Lord, she was built to last Yeah she's a storm flyin' buggy Lord, she was built to last Know I slide down my windows And I stomp down on that gas Well tell me baby, what'd you-what'd you think about that! Ride in it, babe Ride in it, babe Ride in my, my, my Blues Cadillac! Said she's a storm flyin' buggy Lord, she was built to last Yeah she's a storm flyin' buggy Lord, she was built to last Oh, I can let down my windows And I stomp down on that gas So won't you ride, baby, ride C'mon and ride, baby, ride Get on and ride, baby, ride C'mon and, ride, ride, ooooh! Ride in it, babe Ride in it, babe Ride in my, my, my Blues Cadillac! Ride in it, babe Ride in it, babe Ride in my, my, my Blues Cadillaaaaac!

Submitted by The Void — Feb 27, 2026

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.