I’ve got a mind to give up living
And go shopping instead
I’ve got a mind to give up living
And go shopping instead
Pick me up a tombstone
And be pronounced dead
Well, I read your letter this morning
That was on your place in bed
Oh, when I read your letter this morning
That was on your place in bed
That’s when I decided that I’d be better off dead
Oh, yeah
When I read your letter this morning
That was on your place in bed
Yes, when I read your letter this morning
That was on your place in bed
That’s when I decided that I’d be better off dead
It read, «There is no use looking or ever hoping
Or ever hoping to get me back»
«Oh, no use looking, baby
Or ever hoping to get me back
Because it’s all over now
And, baby, you can bet on that»
Oh, yeah
A powerful piece. I don’t know if this is a masterpiece or not as I am not qualified to opine. But to my novice ears Peter Green’s live Warehouse performance of this same song is the humblest, purest, heart wrenchingly perfect imperfect guitar solo I’ve ever heard.
One of the greatest recorded guitar solos. The song is terribly sad, and the guitar pleads with a lyrical beauty that begs to be allowed to finally r.i.p. The finality of this song is a way of understanding the finality of the unfortunate premature deaths of Paul Butterfield and Michael Bloomfield.