| The day I was born, the moon crossed the sun
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| Mama cried, «sweet Jesus what have I done?
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| Lord have mercy on my unfortunate son»
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| Before I drew my second breath, Mama knew
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| She’d just given birth to the King of the Blues
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| And on that day somewhere somebody else died
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| Alone in a dark room and nobody cried
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| ‘Cause there can only be one and I can’t be denied
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| Outriders told everybody the news
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| The King is dead, long live the King of the Blues
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| I’m the King of the Blues, thirteenth of the line
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| The first of my name and the last of my kind
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| One foot in the grave, one hand on the handle of time
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| Descended directly from St. John the Conqueroo
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| I’m the High Priest of Heartache and the King of the Blues
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| I’m a lover, a fighter, a prophet, a fool
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| The keeper of confidences, the lord of misrule
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| A consummate jack-of-all-trades of the Dickensian school
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| But they ain’t never made no love I couldn’t lose
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| I’m the last word of lonesome and the King of the Blues |