"I'm Always Startin' Somethin'"—Crooked Timber/Slim Acres

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Our washin' machine is busted.

I'm Always Startin' Somethin'

(Lyrics by Harold A. Pickett; music by Scott Ryan)

Lucy's always raisin'
Quite a fuss about the way
I put off till tomorrow
What I'd ought to do today.
Are there other fellers like me,
Or am I the only one
That's always startin' somethin'
And never gittin' it done?

Now, I'm a handy sort of feller
With a job of any kind,
But it seems somehow I'm always
Jist a little bit behind.
I have the best intentions
When a job is first begun,
But I'm always startin' somethin'
And never gittin' it done!

          I could name a lot of projects
          That I never carried through—
          Before I get one finished up
          I start on somethin' new.
          Now I ain't dilatary;
          I'm a workin' son-of-a-gun,
          But I'm always startin' somethin'
          And never gittin' it done!

Our washin' machine is busted—
It wouldn't even buzz,
So I took the thing to pieces
To see what the trouble was.
But that was back in April
Of nineteen sixty-one;
I'm always startin' somethin'
And never gittin' it done!

          A gate without a latch,
          A bench without a seat—
          Lucy says there's nothin'
          That I ever finished up complete.
          And jist to be real honest,
          I can't remember none;
          I'm always startin' somethin'
          And never gittin' it done!

Sometimes I git up nerve enough,
As husbands sometimes do,
To buck right up to Lucy
And tell her a thing or two.
But the fight is always finished
'Bout as soon as it's begun—
I'm always startin' somethin'
And never gittin' it done!

I'm always startin' somethin'
And never gittin' it . . .