Harlem Blues

Well The streets are cold At night Though there's a place, I Can go to hangout They give you hot soup And a roll A bed, blanket and a pillow To rest your weary head upon Where you meet like minded People With the same kind of problems We laugh and Play board games Till the sun comes up Then go our separate ways After a mug of hot tea Eggs and some fresh pancakes With syrup on the top I put down my hat and Play my old guitar And at the end of the day I have enough for A shake and a fried takeaway Yeah Maybe I’ll play them something New tomorrow Oh man I sure got them Harlem blues I see a lot of good Basketball players in Harlem Me? Well I’m an exception to the rule My arms don’t stretch that far There just long enough To play my guitar You know I think I get my music From my Grandmas side Maybe I’ll write some songs About what I know Life on the streets I pull out some clean paper From the trash can Use a pen I borrowed From the bank Standing in the queue For my weekly handout The ideas flow across the paper Like ducks on water I pick up my old guitar And strum out a melody Sing the words out slowly Picking up the rhythm People start to crowd around After a couple of new songs My hat holds more dimes Than I make in a whole day Thank you Lord For you have saved me I have more than enough For a shake and a fried takeaway Yeah Oh man I ain’t got them Harlem blues No more I’m still gonna hangout With my friends though At the place where they Give you hot soup And a roll A bed, blanket and a pillow To rest your weary head upon We’ll laugh and Play board games Till the sun comes up Then go our separate ways After a mug of hot tea Eggs and some fresh pancakes Yeah With syrup on the top I know today’s gonna be a Good day And this is what I’m gonna play On the streets of Harlem So maybe I’ll see you there