Last King Of The Blues

LAST KING OF THE BLUES

I buried my youth in Manhattan

My chains in Tennessee

Just because you ain't in jail

That don't mean that you're free

The road's in smoke behind me

I'm looking at the stars for a sign

Well anger comes and goes

But the sadness never leaves

And no one really knows

What another man believes

So if seeing is believing, child,

suppose I might as well be blind

Cos these troubled times have got me

Pacing the floor

No matter where I am looking

I gotta keep one eye on the door

Make a stop by Mary Ellen's

For a shot of green chartreuse

Then I'm heading down to Clarksdale

For an appointment with The Last King Of The Blues

There's no east or west anymore

Just above and down below

And what tomorrow's got in store

it seems best that we don't know

Now I'm listening to the ghosts in the wind

Calling from those old cotton fields

They're singing for a beauty

It's a longing for a peace

It's still hoping for the hilltop

And a touch of sweet release

It's a Song of ancient wounds

That even time could never heal

I ain't pleading with the mother

I ain't preaching to the choir

But look around us, brother

The water's getting higher,

Gonna keep my heart wide open

and tune out all the news

And I just pulled into Clarksdale

For a 4 o'clock with The Last King Of The Blues

His castle is a shotgun shack,

His throne a threadbare chesterfield

His a crown a gray pork pie, truth is his shield

He says "The minute a man is born you know he's old enough to die,

Tread lightly on the ground, son"

then he looks up at the sky

I only came for some redemption

for a sin I didn't choose

But when I hear him speak

I know I've got too much to lose

There's still miles and miles to go

to get this weight off of my back

He takes a sip and squints an eye

Like I'm not the first who's asked,

He smiles like some witch doctor

Who is rising from the past

And with a lowdown Shaman vision

Stomps a downbeat on the tracks

The Father of the Rail Song and the Queen of the Romani Gypsies

Are dead and alive, side by side in Meridian Mississippi

And there's a false Prince up in Memphis, wearing Carl Perkins' stolen shoes

but you gotta get off those paved roads if you wanna get time with

The Last King of the Blues