Lyrics

He's gonna tell you 'bout his dear old mother Burned up in a factory in Springfield, Mass. He's gonna tell you 'bout his baby brother Hustlin' down the city streets And selling his ass for a dollar bag He's gonna tell you 'bout his uncle Neddy Locked up in a prison out in Oregon He's gonna tell you 'bout his best friend Eddie Killed in a bar fight with a pair of Marines And a sailor Oh He's got the blues, this boy He's got the blues You can hear it in his music He's got the blues, this boy He's got the blues You can hear it, you can hear it When I was nine years old My daddy ran away With a woman he met on a train, oh His little boy Ran to the room Where his piano Lay in wait for him He played and he played He played and he played He's got the blues, this boy He's got the blues You can hear it, you can hear it He's got the blues, this boy He's got the blues A year ago, I met a girl I thought we'd hit a massive groove But she dumped me And all we'd hit were the blues He's got the blues, this boy He's got the blues You can hear it in his music He's got the blues, this boy He's really got the blues
Writer(s): Randy Newman Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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