I have no home said the homeless,
I have nothing to my name am penniless,
I used to work for nothing just peanuts,
Work my fingers to the bone busted my guts,
Was a rolling stone that gathers no moss,
Everyone talked down to me everyone was my boss,
I started singing R&B and singing the blues,
Had nothing to eat was living only on booze,
Have noticed blues singers never sing of Honda,
Neither of KIA, Toyota nor of Infinity or Acura,
They always sing of American made Chevrolet,
That takes them to Alabama on the dusty Highway,
They all wear boots summer or winter day or night,
A cowboy hat and drive till the day’s early light,
The name is always Johnny, Dwayne, or Doug,
They always smoke but they never touch a drug,
Their woman left behind – in the farm alone,
A tall beautiful blonde – her name is usually Sharon,
They usually lose it all and go back to the farm,
Or die in a freak accident still full of charm,
This is the nature of the old classical blues,
No one ever wins everyone has to lose,

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