Furry Sings the Blues

Old Beale Street is coming down

Sweeties' Snack Bar boarded up now

And Egles the Tailor and the Shine Boy's gone

Faded out with ragtime blues

Handy's cast in bronze

And he's standing in a little park

With his trumpet in his hand

Like he's listening back to the good old bands

And the click of high heeled shoes

Old Furry sings the blues

Propped up in his bed

With his dentures and his leg removed

And Ginny's there

For her kindness and Furry's beer

She's the old man's angel overseer

Pawn shops glitter like gold tooth caps

In the grey decay

They chew the last few dollars off

Old Beale Street's carcass

Carrion and mercy

Blue and silver sparkling drums

Cheap guitars, eye shades, and guns

Aimed at the hot blood of being no one

Down and out in Memphis Tennessee

Old Furry sings the blues

You bring him smoke and drink and he'll play for you

It's mostly muttering now and sideshow spiel

But there was one song he played

I could really feel

There's a double bill murder at the New Daisy

The old girl's silent across the street

She's silent waiting for the wrecker's beat

Silent, staring at her stolen name

Diamond boys and satin dolls

Bourbon laughter, ghosts, history falls

To parking lots and shopping malls

As they tear down old Beale Street

Old Furry sings the blues

He points a bony finger at you and says

"I don't like you"

Everybody laughs as if it's the old man's standard joke

But it's true

We're only welcome for our drink and smoke

W.C. Handy, I'm rich and I'm fey

And I'm not familiar with what you played

But I get such strong impressions of your hey day

Looking up and down old Beale Street

Ghosts of the darktown society

Come right out of the bricks at me

Like it's a Saturday night

They're in their finery

Dancing it up and making deals

Furry sings the blues

Why should I expect that old guy to give it to me true?

Fallen to hard luck

And time and other thieves

While our limo is shining on his shanty street

Old Furry sings the blues