Singin' New York Town
Quelle: Spotify
(years went by with me on the road, never noticin' just how fast time could pass. ridin' empty cabooses with other men in the same place as me, with nothin' and goin' nowhere. i seen more things in those years i ever thought possible, never knew how pretty this country could be. i'd sit and watch the landscape out the open rail car door, the untouched fields and trees, the cows in their pastures. it was all so beautiful to me. and then it was back to jumpin' off one set of tracks and hopin' the next, stoppin' off in some small town for a week lookin' for work. always the same, spit shinin' rich men's shoes while they wait for a bus or trolly car to work. and not one of them ever knew the man kneelin' in front of them fought to keep him safe in his easy life. so i'd get my things together with the money i made and move on. years and years like this can beat a man into the ground, but i kept movin' on. i think it was '59 when i had run into that guitar pickin' man from birminham in one of those train yeards. he told me he had gotten out like me to see the world, but he hadn't gotten too far just yet. we decided to keep travelin' north, til we got to one of them big cities, where no one would care what we looked like, or where we been, and we could just sit and play that guitar all day. because in a big place like that, some other men got to have the blues too. after a few more years, we found our way to new york. buildings goin' up to the sky, men like us goin' under ground.)
my saviour, this city. my comfort, her pity. or so i hoped. my heartache, my hard luck, my war time, my struggle that no one knows. in the alleys where i sleep, i beg and beg for the food i eat. all the pain and the hurt in your gut where it burns, every man here is just like me. the wind blowin' 'round the snow, makes a man freeze straight to the bone. so i drink and i drink and i try not to think of all the people i lost at home. these six strings i'm playin' and these songs i'm singin' keep me alive. these strangers that curse me, the hero they don't see, just waitin' to die. i ain't the man i used to be, i feel the city as it's crushin' me. i am losin' ground on these city streets, new york town has got the best of me. the southern ground where my momma sleeps, she found death and she found peace. there's an empty grave next to where she lay, the where i'm supposed to be. i beg and i plead for her god to hear me, he's just a coward, and a thief. i pray and i pray, if he is there to answer me, but i hear nothin'.
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