Soho Blues

Soho Blues





Life’s a riffle shooting boundary
With a bad dog behind
Within’ a hunt, I hear the beating off
Hung men’s and their cold shadows
Cuz’ I’m whistling Soho’s Blues

In the bars, slaves nigger
Just back from the factory up to their glasses
Waiting that I tell their stories
That’s my job, Babe, that I whistle in smiles
Cuz’ I’m whistling Soho’s Blues

On the roads of the graveyard country
Talking to the slain while singing life
Your eyes, and the remain of our love
They listen to me, pensive in misery
Cuz’ I’m whistling Soho’s Blues

We give the tramp a coin
Who drag his carcass on silex’s lanes
Under holy rains, facing wood’s sun
I’m walking heel up the sky
Cuz’ I’m whistling Soho’s Blues

This hamlet people they’d be saying
“Look’at this nigger, who does’nt want to work
He prefers to sing than eat
And write stories to forget his’ ”
Cuz’ I’m whistling Soho’s Blues

I’ve sold myself to the Devil
To touch as a virtuoso, the blessed blues
As my soul drip from my dirty songs
Ill, godless and dying from sadness
Cuz’ I’m whistling Soho’s Blues

Oh, sure nobody likes to see my suit
Announcing deep in tone the next tune
Where kid’s eyes drown, women 
fall in love and men pray
Cuz’ I’m whistling Soho’s Blues

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