Workin' Class Blues
In the city where nothin’ grows but cold attitudes
Woman of taste painting her face.
She got nothing to lose.
What I see is blindin’ me, I know it can’t be true.
Got a bad case of the workin’ class blues.
When you’re down in the coal mine or up in the sunshine the story’s the same
You lie and you cry and you scratch and you die
And no one’s to blame.
You pray someone will take it all away from you.
Got a bad case of the workin’ class blues.
A man lives where he lays his head, fenced in by the rules he’s made…
So you look at me and smile and see a happy man.
You seek the loneliness behind his eyes
And you make your stand.
It’s a long night and it’s all right
You never win or lose.
Got a bad case of the workin’ class blues.
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​For Tomorrow
So you sit here. Wondering…does something exist here?
Rejecting all your fears, take a stand here. Demand here
Your freedom....Your freedom....
So I sit here. Impressed by all I say.
The truth, dear, stands in the way,
I love you. I'll seek no other. I'll seek no other.
So we sit here and fill this empty land.
For the reason....to take another stand.
For the moment. And for each other.
And for tomorrow....tomorrow....tomorrow
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Lookin’ For You
I been out, I been in, I been to Memphis and went round the bend
Gave it a good ride but I thought you might like to know.
The places I go, the things I do, I live my life lookin’ for you.
.
I been up. I been down. I rode a spaceship to Mars and then I came back home.
Took a long time, such a long time to do.
The places I go, the things I do, I live my life lookin’ for you.
Up in the distance, some woman’s insistin’ I make a resistant move.
She took all my money, never once called me ‘Honey’,
And left me here with an old Caprice Classic [ it’s a beauty, baby ]
And a bottle of cheap hootch [ Sweet mother-of-pearl ]
How could she do that to me..?
I’ll say to you, sure as I been born, I lived for a time in a 3rd-floor walk-up in South Baltimore
In spite of it all, I don’t think I learned nothin’.
The places I go, the things I do, I live my life, lookin’ for you.
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Boh
My dog Boh she’s really neat. She's got a sweet face and four feet.
Well, two of ‘ems paws, she don’t break no laws, she’s a good dog.
Boh and me was walkin’ one day when a horn took to honkin’ not too far away.
I imagined I’d stepped into an alternate reality where all was realer than the real I could see.
Man...we was trippin. Honey dippin’. Slidin’ and a-slippin’.
Now, Boh’s got a truck, it’s an old Ford Ranger, 'course, I gotta’ drive
Cause she’s always barkin’ at strangers,
She rides shotgun and hangs out the window.
She has a good time. She’s a friend of mine.
She takes her time…She likes white wine…She sips it, don’tcha’ know.
She’s a good old dog. C’mon, Boh. Let’s go…
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​Letters From The Road
To me she asked what will you eat, said I, "a prime filet".
With laughter and a poisoned eye, her words began to play
Said she: "the menu clearly states: Got no gourmet foods today.
Got French fries, cole slaw, and pie".
The road is long, the road is rough but this was yet too much.
She rolled her eyes to’ards the skies n’ she served the devil’s sludge.
And so I feasted with disgust, a madman in a field of lust.
French fries, cole slaw, and pie
I gotta’ go home…Been on the road far too long.
Remember this be you alive, don’tcha do what I have done.
Take wing, and like the birdman fly, the battle’s never won.
For she will tempt you with her goods and turn you on to some nasty foods.
French fries, cole slaw, and pie.
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Break These Chains
Got to rock, got to roll, got to play the game.
Workin’ man tryin’ to get a piece of the action.
Got to move, got to go. Rythym in my brain.
Lonely man, only man left to carry the weight.
Break these chains. Break these chains. Break these chains and let me ride.
Cosmic forces on TV sayin’ you’re the one for me.
Pickin’ and choosin’ is hard don’tcha’ know it ain’t easy.
What if – once upon a time - I was yours and you were mine,
What would you do, what would you say? Would you simply walk away?
Break these chains. Break these chains. Break these chains. And let me ride.
It’s 3:00 o’clock in the mornin’-I can’t find my shoes. What can I do? What can I do?
Can’t take another day of wearin’ These No Shoes Blues...It’s all a man can do to get free…
Now you ask me, ‘do we hang on tight?’
Use your wisdom.
And make it through the darkest night?’
Yeah, yeah, yeah…( Tell me children, now talk to me. )
I knew a man of tearful eye
Was caught inside a butterfly
And when tried to leave the earth
He found he wasn’t worth enough to get by
Poor Butterfly….
Spaceship fever’s on the rise. Watch the skies, watch ‘em now.
And reality is yesterday’s tomorrow.
So much runnin’ through my head. Must remember what The Buddha said.
Open your heart, open your mind...Oooh you treat me so unkind.
Break these chains. Break these chains. Break these chains. And let me ride.
I walk along the river lookin’ for my shoes. Can’t find no clues. What can I do?
Can’t take another night, wearin’ These No Shoes Blues. It’s all a man can do to get free…
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Cuddle up and say goodnight. Make it right, make it right.
One for the money and one more for my baby.
Got to rock, got to roll, gotten to know my name.
Spoken in love, spoken in hate, there ain’t no time to hesitate.
Break these chains, Break these chains. Break these chains, And let me ride.
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Welcome to The Blues
Baby sips from the bottle cued one of my original sins.
To slide down Stone Mountain and visit me again.
I remember those nights…Sparks in the darkness…dancin’ in the neon lights.
Welcome to The Blues.
Crazed like a wild man of Borneo rakin’ and ramblin’ down the line
With a nasty disdain for convention, A man straight outta’ Space - Time.
Come lookin ‘ to pay those dues. Call it Karma if ya’ like…nothin’ works out right.
Welcome to The Blues…
Goodbye Wanda, you know I’ll miss you in the evening by the fire…goodbye.
Went to see my confessor, hopin’ she’d wipe my sins away
Grind ‘em into ashes and save ‘em for a better day.
She said, ‘What - choo’ got to lose? They’re tailor - made for a man like you…
Welcome to The Blues…’
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Sometimes You Lose
Woke up this morning with an ache in my head and a telegram restin’ upon my chest said,
You have been awarded first prize-loser of the year.
Pack up yer bags n’ grab your telephone, lock up doors and get back on the road.
Just goes to prove sometimes you lose.
Went to a party up in New York City. Beautiful people, soft and pretty.
Decked out in furs and snortin cocaine right up their nose.
Lah-Dee-Dah-In me till I felt right at home, in the middle of the city I was all alone,,
Just goes to prove sometimes you lose.
Life can be cruel. Ya’ know it’s bound to let you down.
Sometimes you lose. So you bury your head in the ground.
I seen enough of your fascination. Wish I could take me a long vacation
Out in the woods where those high-tone ladies don’t go.
Maybe I’m getting old, maybe I’m not, whatever I’m gettin' sure costs a lot.
Just goes to prove sometimes you lose
Playing the fool’s a bad game in a lonesome town.
Sometimes you lose. So you bury your head in the ground.
I seen enough of your fascination. Wish I could take me a long vacation
Out in the woods where those high-tone ladies don’t go.
Maybe I’m getting old, maybe I’m not, whatever I’m getting sure costs a lot.
Just goes to prove sometimes you lose
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So It Goes
Lost my way in the middle of Manhattan a long long time ago.
Told myself it was the crystal and the satin from the heart of the big bad city.
So it goes…walkin’ that long, long road.
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Climbed that mountain searchin’ for my freedom, a long long time ago.
Space-Dude flyin’ in or the usual reasons from the heart of the cold cold city.
So it goes…walkin’ that long, long road.
I give up. I stand off. I forget. I slow - burn. I detach. I break free. I cry out – ‘Look At Me!’
I go long. I suppose. I move mountains. I hear music. I’m in. I’m out.
I lay my burden down….
Comb your hair, Powder up yer daisy, have a sweet time when you go.
Save the women, the children, and the crazies from the heart of the cold cold city.
So it goes…walkin’ that long, long road.
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Bring It On Home
When you're nobody in a nowhere place it's no disgrace to get down.
Bring it on home. Bring it on home to me.
'Cause i know how it feels to reveal your sweet dreams n' things.
Bring it on home. Bring it on home to me.
Half of gettin' anyplace is goin'.
Sometimes paradise is on the run.
Half of gettin' anything is dreamin'.
Half of you is me and half of me is you...
You better run, better fly, I'll get by, I'm quiet for awhile.
Bring it on home. Bring it on home to me.
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Living Again
If I was back in New York I'd be crazy for sure, I'd be hell on the street again.
It's no way to live if I was back in New York. I'd be older of course,
And maybe never survive.
If I was back on the road I'd be lonely and cold. Murderous life that it is.
It's no way to live if I was back on the road. I'd turn into a toad
And never be heard from again
New York, New York, it’s a helluva town…
They turned me loose in Manhattan to fend for myself.
And suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune...
Songs of creation are rattlin' my brain, I am living again.
I am living again...
Songs of creation.
…don’t talk to me…don’t preach to me…
…don’t talk to me…don’t preach to me…
…don’t teach me….don’t please….
If I was playing my music to your fantasy, what would become of me?
It's no way to live if I was playin' my music.
Somebody'd confuse it....
Maybe misuse it
Most likely abuse it…
And maybe I’d lose it.
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