True Blues

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..