True Blues - The Last Poets

True Blues\nain’t no new news\n'bout who’s been abused\nfor the blues is as old\nas my stolen soul.\nI sang the blues when the missionaries came\npassing out Bibles in Jesus' name.\nI sang the blue in hull of the ship\nbeneath the sting of the slavemaster’s whip.\nI sang the blues when the ship anchored\nthe dock\nmy family being sold on a slave block.\nI sang the blues being torn from my first born\nand hung my head and cried\nwhen my wife took his life\nand then committed suicide.\nI sang the blues on the slavemaster’s\nplantation\nhelping him build his tree nation.\nI sang the blues in the cotton field\nhustlin' to make the daily yield.\nI sang the blues when he forced my woman\nto bed.\nLord Knows I wish he was dead\nI sang the blues on the run\nducking the dogs and dodging the gun.\nI sang the blues hangin' from the tree\nin a desperate attempt to break free.\nI sang the blue from sun up to down\ncursing the master when he wasn’t around.\nI sang the blues in all his wars\ndying for someone uknown cause.\nI sang the blues in the high tone, low moan,\nload groan, soft grunt, hard funk!\nI sang the blues on land, sea and air\nabout who, when, why and where.\nI sang the blues in church on Sunday.\nslavin' on Monday\nmisused on Tuesday.\nabused on Wednesday.\naccused on Thursday.\nfried alive on Friday\nand died on Saturday.\nSho’nuff singin the blues.\nI sang the blues in the summer, fall, winter\nand spring.\nI know sho’nuff the blues is my thing.\nI sang the backwater blues.\nRhythm and blues.\nGospel blues.\nSt. Louis blues\nCrosstown blues.\nChicago blues.\nMississipi Goddam blues.\nThe Watts blues.\nHarlem blues.\nHough blues.\nGutbucket blues.\nFunky junkie blues.\nI sang the up north cigarette cough blues.\nThe down south strung out the side of my\nmouth blues.\nI sang the blues black.\nI sang the blues blacker.\nI sang the blues blackest.\nI sang about my sho’nuff blue blackeness.