Lord, I wish I could Put these blues in a bottle And lock 'em up for good It'd be aged about right by now Have a pretty good bite and how We could pour it out and have a taste Be a shame to let it go to waste That's the real thing Rolling round your tongue Take a sip, have a little nip We can cork it up when we're done Lord, I wish I could Put these blues in a bottle And lock 'em up for good Telephone keeps ringing Radio keeps singing Some forgotten song from 1963 Stirring something deep inside of me I may never See your face again But I wonder if you feel this way too When you take one on the chin Lord, I wish I could Put these blues in a bottle And lock 'em up for good Wish I could somehow Put these blues in a bottle And cork the stopper down That's the real thing Rolling round your tongue Take a sip, have a little nip We can cork it up when we're done Lord, I wish I could Put these blues in a bottle And cork 'em up for good Wish I could somehow Put these blues in a bottle And cork the stopper down Cork the stopper down Cork the stopper down