My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, & I Don't Love Jesus Lyrics - Jimmy Buffett

By: Jimmy Buffett 

1975 

Chorus: 

My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus (oh my lordy it's that...) 

It's that kind of mornin' 

Really was that kind of night 

Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' 

And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night 

Went down to the snake pit 

To drink a little beer 

Listen to the jukebox 

Merle was comin' in clear 

All of a sudden I wad'n alone 

Pickin' country music with ol' Joe Bones 

Duval Street was rockin' 

My eyes they starting poppin' 

Related 

Songs That Will Make You Cry Uncontrollably 

From MetroLyrics to You: Our Classic Christmas Playlist 

5 Totally Underrated Christmas Songs 

Because there she sat at the corner of the bar 

As I broke another string on my ol' guitar 

Someone call a cab 

Lady won'tcha pay my tab 

Chorus: 

And now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus 

(oh my lordy it's that...) 

It's that kinda mornin' 

Really was that kinda night 

Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' 

And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night 

Gotta get a little orange juice 

And a Darvon for my head 

I can't spend all day 

Baby layin' in the bed 

Photos 

I'm goin' down to Fausto's get some chocolate milk 

Can't spend my life in yer sheets of silk 

I've got to find my way 

Crawl out and greet the day 

Chorus: 

But now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus 

(oh my lordy it's that...) 

It's that kinda mornin' 

Really was that kinda night 

Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' 

And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night 

Let me tell ya, I be roarin' Friday night 

I mean I'll be 

Roarin' 

Friday 

Night