Please excuse the contraction “couldn’t”
I Couldn't Walk For A Week - Lillian Dixie Walker (1957 Vintage Lost Blues)
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I stroll into that smoky little joint hip swaying slow, my dress skin tight. The band was humming dirty blues. And every shadow begged for night. He tipped his hat with that wicked grim. Eyes trailing down my frame. And honey, when he licked his lips, my body whispered out his name. Oh, I couldn’t walk for a week. Every step was fire, every sigh unique. I rode a stallion built for sin. Left me trembling deep within. Oh, I couldn't walk for a week. Every shiver told the tale I couldn't speak. He leaned in close, one breath on skin said, darling, you're divine. I felt his hand slide, across my waist like he was drawing down a line. We slipped out through the alleyway. The moon, our silver guide . And every step I felt his heat. His hunger at my side. Oh, I couldn't walk for a week. Every step was fire every sigh unique. Wrote a stallion built for sin. Let me traveling deep within all I couldn't walk for a week. Every shiver told a tale I couldn't speak. Inside my room, the candles glow, the air turned thick and slow. He pressed me back against the wall Like he had somewhere fierce to go. His hands were strong, his lips were sweet. He claimed me with a growl And every time he pulled me close, I couldn't help but howl. Oh, I couldn't walk for a week. Every step was fire, every sigh unique. Wrote a stallion built for sin. Left me trembling deep within oh, I could walk for a week. Every shiver told the tale I couldn't speak. We tored through hours wild and hot, like thunder made of flesh. He lift me up and lay me down, then pull me tight afresh. But dawn I lay there breathless, drenched in sweat and sweet defeat? My legs were jelly hard undone, my pulse a frantic beat. Oh, I couldn't walk for a week. Every step was fire, every sigh unique. Rode a stallion built for sin. Left me trembling deep within. Oh, I couldn't walk for a week. Every shiver told the tale I couldn't speak. I tried to stand that morning light but, Lord, I near collapsed. Held on the chairs, the window frame, each muscle torn and taxed. But every ache was thrilling proof of how we owned the night. And every bruise along my skin still burned with sheer delight. Later, he returned again. Hat tilted, bold and low. Said, baby, you surviving with that grin. That made me glow. I waved him in. My hips still sore, but craving one more round. For when he touched me with that fire, the room forgot the ground. Oh, I couldn't walk for a week. Every step was fire, every sigh unique. Rode a stallion built for sin. Left me trembling deep within Oh, I couldn't walk a week. Every shiver told a tale.
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