Callaloo

Well, the las’ time I saw my mother She said, son, you take care of yourself— ‘Cause when it gets / down to the nitty gritty Boy, you ain’t got nobody else.       ain’t nobody else       ain’t nobody else

You talk about my friends, baby       you say Ain’t none of them niggas no good What about my white friends, baby, Do they do the things they should       even if they could—       even if they could

   “blues are more than cries of oppression”     —Mary Helen Washington

They say the blues is just a slave song But I say that’s just a lie Cause even when we be free, baby— Lord knows we still have got to die       lovers will still lie       babies will still cry

Some folks don’t like my way of living Some folks, oh, they don’t like my life Well, some folks don’t like my mama— And some, oh, they don’t like my wife [End Page 951]

Yeah, the man done lost his niggas And he done blowed his children too Now he’s ‘bout to lose his woman— And he don’t know what to do        he still got guns, honey       and a whole lotta money

Well, I know a girl named Wanda Yeah, and she flat backs all night long Yeah, she be staring at the ceiling While the truckers hump and moan       so drunk from gin        that she’s gotta put it in

Sometimes I think, lady, That our troubles will never end But when I wake up in the morning— I start out all over again

‘Cause I gotta keep on pushing I gotta keep on keeping on I know one day we’ll be free, baby And most troubles will be gone.