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new bottle from the mixture. That fine drirJk gave me a name and from that I made a tune that was very, very popular in those days . . .
I'm a wining boy, dont deny my name,
I'm a wining boy, dont deny my name,
I'm a wining boy, doni deny my name,
Pick it up and shake it like Stavin Chain,
I'm a wining boy, dont deny my doggone name, . .
Every month, the changing of the moon, Every month, the changing of the moon, I say, every month, changing of the moon, The blood comes rushing from the bitch's womb, Tm, a wining boy, dont deny my name. . . .**
** Other stanzas of this blues (see tune 2, Appendix I) would burn the pages they were printed on. They confirm St. Cyr's story. Also, Stavin Chain, to whom Morton compared himself, lived off women. Hero of a long, rambling ballad, known all through the Southwest, Stavin Chain's prowess was sexual- |
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