CON--TIN--U--A--TION Blues*

some folks say the Blues is just a slave song
but, I say that's just a lie
'cause even we where free, babe
lord knows, we still got to die

lovers still lie
babies still cry


las' time I saw my mama she said
son, take care of yourself
meaning, when it gets down/ to the nitty gritty
there ain't nobody else

ain't nobody else



ain't
nobody
else
babe/ sometimes I find I'm thinking
our troubles will never end
but when I wake up in the morning
I start out all over again

'cause I got to/ keep on pushing
got to/ keep on with the keeping on
God I/ hope someday were free
to sing our troubles with a different song





*This poem is the bastard child of an Emmanuel Knight admirer's foggy memory and a way cooler poem by (perhaps) the same name.