Lyrics Randy Newman

Randy Newman

The Blues

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