walkin' the streets
wondering why they don't love me
like a man, like a father
times like these i can't bother to worry
concentration gets blurry i'd rather just
take my ass to a joint
bluesy soul searching dive
slummin's the point
park it on the red leather
light up a square and call jack
yo! pour me a miller, my brother.
sometimes it comes so clear
and i give up the fight
my mind travels back to negro days
never far from the present.