Your Southern Can Is Mine - The White Stripes

The White Stripes - The Troubadour, Los Angeles 7/17/2001 - Your Southern Can Is Mine

01.	Let’s Shake Hands
02.	When I Hear My Name
03.	The Big Three Killed My Baby
04.	Jolene
05.	Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground
06.	Hotel Yorba
07.	I Think I Smell a Rat
08.	Little Room
09.	The Union Forever
10.	We’re Going to Be Friends
11.	Expecting
12.	Aluminum
13.	Baby Blue
14.	Cool Drink of Water Blues
15.	Astro
16.	Farmer John
17.	Your Southern Can Is Mine
18.	Broken Bricks
19.	Screwdriver
20.	You’re Pretty Good Looking
21.	Boll Weevil
22.	Hello Operator
23.	St. James Infirmary Blues
24.	Look Me Over Closely

Now, looky here, momma, let me explain you this
You wanna get crooked, I'll even give you my fist
You might read from Revelation back to Genesis
You get crooked, your southern can belongs to me

So there ain't no use in bringin' no jive to me
Your southern can is mine in the mornin'
Your southern can belongs to me

You might go uptown, have me arrested, put in jail
Some hotshot's got money, gonna pull my bail
Soon as I get out, hit the ground
Your southern can is worth a dollar and half a pound

So there ain't no use in bringin' no jive to me
Your southern can is mine, talkin' about it
Your southern can belongs to me

You might take it from the south, baby, hide it up north
Understand you can't rule me or be my boss
Take it from the east and hide in the west
But when I get you, momma, you can't a-see no rest

So there ain't no use in bringin' no jive to me
Your southern can is mine, I'm screamin'
Your southern can belongs to me

Now baby, ashes to ashes, sand to sand
When I hit you, momma, then you feel my hand
Give you a punch through that barbed wire fence
When I hit you, baby, you know I make no sense

So there ain't no use in bringin' no jive to me
Your southern can is mine, I know it
Your southern can belongs to me

Now, look here, woman, don't get hot
I'm gonna grab me a brick outta my backyard

So there ain't no use in bringin' no jive to me
Your southern can is mine, talkin' about it
Your southern can belongs to me

Well, if I catch you, momma, down in the heart of town
I'm gonna grab me a brick and tear your can on down

So there ain't no use in bringin' no jive to me
Your southern can is mine, I know it
Your southern can belongs to me

You may be deathbed sick, baby, graveyard bound
Gonna make you moan like a graveyard hound

So there ain't no use in bringin' no jive to me
Your southern can is mine, I'm screamin'
Your southern can belongs to me

"You keep moving around like you're uncomfortable. What's the matter, Willie?
Well, I was in a automobile accident last night, a little shook up
No one got hurt but it was all a jostle up mighty bad, shake up
Still sore from it but no one got hurt