Mmmmm-mmmmm I's up this mornin' Ah, blues walkin' like a man Is a low-down shakin' chill Worried blues Give me your right hand And the blues fell, mama's child Tore me all upside-down Blues fell, mam's child

I was a man, that I, seldom long. She had a bond to make, to form with you. He wanted to gently stroke your hair. Its the coming one, the son and the heir. Lay down, close your eyes if you dare.. Before you know you might be down. You procreate my next

Kiss your past good-bye Or kiss your ass good-bye Finders keepers losers weep Down on 42nd street Bare-foot-children cryin' my-oh-my I watched you on the avenue While other men were having you I think that you should led your caged bird fly And kiss your

No food on my table And no shoes to go on my feet Hard times, hard times Hard times seem like a jealous thing My children cry for mercy They got no place to call your own If someone don't help me And I just can't be around three months long No shoes on

When will you realize, Vienna waits for you? Slow down, you crazy child You're so ambitious for a juvenile But then if you're so smart, then tell me Why are you still so afraid? Where's the fire, what's the hurry about? You'd better cool it off before

With the angels Gone, she's asleep, finally, she's at peace Gone, out of reach, finally, souls in peace How could you put your own child in danger? And turn around and take the words of a stranger You didn't wanna face the facts so you blamed her Why

Lost and lonely child, living in a world of fear Lose yourself in another day Find out there's another way My oh my, you look so blue Just turn and look my way, a smile will do Catch it now, has to be soon Or lonely hours will be your doom Lost and

Oh! Mama, Mama look there! Your children are playing in that street again Don't you know what happened down there? A youth of fourteen got shot down there The Kokane guns of Jamdown Town The killing clowns, the blood money men Are shooting those

Don't come down, things will always work out So when you find yourself in tears As a child I was foul Ma, I couldn't understand them things that came out your mouth (Daddy's ain't shit!) You would fuss, cuss till your blood pressure was up Then give up

Money in your palm don't make you real Pistol in your hand don't make you real Niggas been countin' me out I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty But that's how