Blues fit the downtown, blues fit the city,
Blues fit the suburbs, where lawns and girls are pretty.
Blues fall on my block, blues fall on yours.
Blues fit you drinking Budweiser or Coors.
I know that blues hit the Chevy man, blues hit the Ford,
I hear that blues hit the Dodge Ram, ain't owned one before.
Ran into the blues drivin' on your street,
Shook hands with the blues where the church people meet.
Stepped in some blues walkin' on the wet sand,
Hit a bump of blues drivin' home on dry land.
Blues got no boundaries, blues got no place,
Blues got no color, religion or race.
If you've got the blues, then you're never alone,
But I'll tell you what to do when you find 'em at home.
You gotta sing out the blues, gotta send 'em on their way,
You gotta sing out the blues, if you don't, they'll just stay.
If you sing out the blues, they won't stay in your heart,
Gotta sing out the blues, that's a good place to start.
You gotta sing out the blues, gotta send 'em on their way,
You gotta sing out the blues, if you don't, they'll just stay.
And here's a little secret, as you send 'em on their way,
Though I'm singin' the blues, I ain't listening today.
And here's a little secret, as you send 'em on their way,
Though I'm singin' out the blues, I don't hear what they say.
Copyright (First draft-Words and Music)
Mar-2006 Jeffrey Brent Clifton
These lyrics + music & more from:
JBCMusic Song Index or
JBCMusic Home Page(www.jbcmusic.com)
eMail to brent(a)jbcmusic.com