True Blues
Ain't no new news
'bout who's been abused
For the blues is as old
As my stolen soul
I sang the blues when the missionaries came
Passing out Bibles in Jesus' name
I sang the blue in hull of the ship
Beneath the sting of the slavemaster's whip
I sang the blues when the ship anchored
The dock

My family being sold on a slave block
I sang the blues being torn from my first born
And hung my head and cried
When my wife took his life
And then committed suicide
I sang the blues on the slavemaster's
Plantation
Helping him build his tree nation
I sang the blues in the cotton field
Hustlin' to make the daily yield
I sang the blues when he forced my woman
To bed

Lord Knows I wish he was dead
I sang the blues on the run
Ducking the dogs and dodging the gun
I sang the blues hangin' from the tree
In a desperate attempt to break free
I sang the blue from sun up to down
Cursing the master when he wasn't around
I sang the blues in all his wars
Dying for someone uknown cause
I sang the blues in the high tone, low moan
Load groan, soft grunt, hard funk!
I sang the blues on land, sea and air
About who, when, why and where
I sang the blues in church on Sunday
Slavin' on Monday
Misused on Tuesday
Abused on Wednesday
Accused on Thursday
Fried alive on Friday
And died on Saturday
Sho'nuff singin the blues
I sang the blues in the summer, fall, winter
And spring
I know sho'nuff the blues is my thing
I sang the backwater blues
Rhythm and blues
Gospel blues
St. Louis blues
Crosstown blues
Chicago blues
Mississipi Goddam blues
The Watts blues
Harlem blues
Hough blues
Gutbucket blues
Funky junkie blues
I sang the up north cigarette cough blues
The down south strung out the side of my
Mouth blues

I sang the blues black
I sang the blues blacker
I sang the blues blackest
I sang about my sho'nuff blue blackeness..