Fixin To Die Blues
by 
Booker T. Washington White a.k.a. Bukka White 
recording of 1940, Chicago 
from 
The Complete Sessions 1930-1940 (Travelin' Man 3) 
& 
The Complete Bukka White (Columbia CK-52782) 
I'm lookin' funny in my eyes and I believe I'm fixin' to die, believe I'm fixin' to die 
I'm lookin' funny in my eyes and I believe I'm fixin' to die 
I know I was born to die but I hate to leave my children cryin' 
Just as sho' as we livin', just as sho' we born to die, sho' we born to die 
Just as sho' as we livin', sho' we born to die 
I know I was born to die but I hate to leave my children cryin' 
Your mother treated me, children, like I was her baby child, was her baby child 
Your mother treated me like I was her baby child 
That's why's I find it so hard to come back home to die 
So many nights at the fireside, how my children's mother would cry, how my children's mother would cry 
So many nights at the fireside, how my children's mother would cry 
'Cause I told the mother I had to say goodbye 
Look over yonder, on the burying ground, on the burying ground 
Look over yonder, on the burying ground 
Yon' stand ten thousand, standin' still to let me down 
Mother take my children back, before they let me down, before they let me down 
Mother take my children back, 'fore they let me down 
I don't need for them to screamin' and cryin' on the graveyard ground