he ain't got shoes except blues
works all day and hopes to play
like others in the sun
with a face that's tan but
at the end of the day, when work is done
he ain't got anything but blues
yet, like a bird on a wire
like a drunk in a making a living out of black-land dirt
he has tried in ways to be free
like a bird out of a cage
like a fish on a hook
like a knight from an old fashioned book like a baby stillborn
like a beast with his horns
no one reaches out for him
yet, like a beggar
leaning on a wooden crutch
like a soul hanging on a darkened door
he saved his ribbons for you
and got your bills when you don't own his ills
the African boy,
ain't got anything to lose
when you watch him squirm
put him on a hook and you drop him in a brook
everything's gonna turn out just right,
tonight you'll see him fry fish
with his eyes dancing with the stars
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