Blues for a Southern Black Girl in the 21st c.

For Etheridge Knight

My daddy from Chicago; my mama from Nashville.
She teach bad kids; he preach to bad folks and fix TVs.
Cause folks can’t live by bread alone
They need money too.
Said folks sho’ can’t live by bread alone
They gots to have money too.

I was born in Tennessee.
I been playing the trumpet since I was twelve.
Said I’m from Memphis, you know W.C. Handy,
And I been blowing since I was a young gal.
Like my great uncle and uncle before me
The song in my fingers trying to get free.

I been to Orlando; I been Chicago.
Been to Alabama (didn’t stay too long) and Newark too.
I was glad when it was time to go—
Cause I had heard enough folks water down jazz
And bankhand the blues in a sentimental mood.
Said I done played my horn in all them places.
And I sho’ nuff heard folks tripping on Coltrane’s coattails
And lollygagging with Armstrong’s arpeggio-blues.

I got the song in my fingers trying to get free.
Like my great uncle and uncle before me
Said I feel the song in my fingers and it got to get free.
So I’m gon sing the song my fingers give to me.
Cause folks can’t live by bread alone
They need the blues too.
Said folks sho’ can’t live by bread alone.
They gots to have the blues too.