Furry Sings The Blues

Old Beale Street is coming down 
Sweeties' Snack Bar, boarded up now 
And Eagles The Tailor and the Shine Boy's gone 
Faded out with ragtime blues 

Handy's cast in bronze and he's standing in a little park 
With his trumpet in his hand 
Like he's listening back to the good old bands 
And the click of high heeled shoes 

Old Furry sings the blues 

Propped up in his bed 
With his dentures and his leg removed 
And Ginny's there for her kindness and Furry's beer 
She's the old man's angel overseer 

Pawn shops glitter like gold tooth caps 
In the grey decay 
They chew the last few dollars off 
Old Beale Street's carcass 

Carrion and mercy, blue and silver sparkling drums 
Cheap guitars, eye shades and guns 
Aimed at the hot blood of being no one 
Down and out in Memphis Tennessee 

Old Furry sings the blues 

Bring him smoke and drink and he'll play for you 
lt's mostly muttering now and sideshow spiel 
But there was one song he played 
I could really feel 

There's a double bill murder at the New Daisy 
The old girl's silent across the street 
She's silent, waiting for the wrecker's beat 
Silent, staring at her stolen name 

Diamond boys and satin dolls 
Bourbon laughter, ghosts, history falls 
To parking lots and shopping malls 
As they tear down old Beale Street 

Old Furry sings the blues 

He points a bony finger at you and says, "I don't like you" 
Everybody laughs as if it's the old man's standard joke 
But it's true 
We're only welcome for our drink and smoke 

W.C. Handy, I'm rich and I'm fay 
And I'm not familiar with what you played 
But I get such strong impressions of your hey day 
Looking up and down old Beale Street 

Ghosts of the darktown society 
Come right out of the bricks at me 
Like it's a Saturday night, they're in their finery 
Dancing it up and making deals 

Furry sings the blues 

Why should I expect that old guy to give it to me true 
Fallen to hard luck 
And time and other thieves 
While our limo is shining on his shanty street 

Old Furry sings the blues