‘Bout Da Blues

The blues spoke out loud, as the very first person, to me  
Talkin' 'bout movin' on and leavin' your troubles behind  
That's what the blues should feel like, like being set free  
One day, a college educated black man, rather refined  
Met a lean loose-jointed negro vagrant, swingin' with motion  
He was a sittin' over there, between the police and the railway station  
When he first heard this gifted black musician, playing his guitar  
But, he'd been pulling a knife across the strings, how bizarre  
It was the weirdest sound, that he ever did hear.  
 
Music was being played all down the south coast  
Mainly for pleasure, but also for future profit, they'd all boast  
But people were throwing coins, at the soles of this dudes feet  
He said, it's played by all the blacks, but whiteys can't hear its tunes  
Played all night and day, making some money, just enough to be able to eat  
Some would even use a dirty ole wash bowl, along with some silver spoons  
 
I wanted to learn me, how to pick that guitar, oh yes sir re, indeed  
There was a sweet singer of the swamp lands, always high on green weed  
Passing on by here, to put down a few tracks, all 'bout da blues  
He'd never stay too long, 'cause he was wanted by the state  
Word had it, he was from a town in Texas, named Fate  
He was known as Lead Belly, who never paid his dues  
Yep, he did become that infamous, murderous minstrel  
 
You gotta take an eight bar phrase  
Then simply, make it a twelve bar phrase  
Now ya got ya selves, dat ole fashioned blues  
You'd know a lot more about the blues, by meeting the people  
Than you would, listening to it, from home or relying on the news  
Or seated around a knob on the radio dial, like most lazy towns people  
The uptight white cats from LA, didn't bother, to hear those sort of tones  
Even after sitting, right beside the famous UK band, the Rolling Stones  
 
In the meantime, mainstream USA sat up and twirled  
As they smashed through their southern racial barrier  
So everyone could be happier, they'd forget about their interior  
The British had heard it, full steam ahead, they then told the world  
Letting y'all know, who these great blues music people, really are and were  
Then, white America said, 'Well let me go see', what's making them purr  
 
When it was all done and finalised  
It was only then, that we realised  
That it was so hip hop  
For us to put the blues back on top  
We had the big bop, then the 80s pop  
Thru to ZZ Top, along with another MTV flop  
Tearing it all up, leaving behind very few clues  
Even though, they were just, as bad to the bone  
Just as the original good ole blues  
Should've always done.