| I was lying in my bed, pull the silken sheets up tight
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| I gotta keep me strength up, gotta do a show tonight.
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| I have a sip of coffee while I’m taking in the news,
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| Don’t need to have a shave 'cause I gotta sing the blues
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| (Spoken) Not yet, man.
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| Then I think I’ll get a massage, maybe, lose a little fat,
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| So I have to go downtown in my brand-new Cadillac,
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| My valet comes and dresses me, I light a big cigar,
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| Cos' I like to look like Nimrod when I’m riding in my car.
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| Can blue men sing the whites?
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| Or are they hypocrites for singing: Whooo ooo oooH,
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| And now it’s getting near the time I gotta make the scene,
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| I change out my dark-grey mohair suit, pull on my dirty jeans,
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| The band comes round to pick me up, I holler: «Hello boys,
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| I gotta mess my hair up and gotta make some noise.»
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| Can blue men sing the whites?
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| Or are they hypocrites for singing: Whooo ooo oooH,
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| Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to do you a little number now that’s been very
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| lucky for us from during the depression when everybody was very depressed.
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| O Lordy,
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| In dem cotton fields,
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| O Mama,
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| I mean it
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| Somebody help me,
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| Tell me like it was,
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| Bugga-boo, buggaaah-whoo-oo |