valentine-xavier-bronzeville

My honey child, them housing projects Cannot contain her multitudes A sunbeam, hard upon her Just a fly strugglin_ through her braid loops Watch me prove to __m I__ more than nothin_ But a ragamuffin with homesick eyes Yes, when it gets to be the same old thing Shorty you ought to come and see about me My love, she is a drummer Than industrial steel, her backbone tougher The eloping night and the honey moon that trails Just dirt __eath her finger nails I__l be down on them crossroads __il daybreak winks a bright eye And if it gets to be the same old thing Shorty you ought to come and see about me She__ heard all the right things And they did not persuade her She has no use for your words What she wants is your labor __ause when gringos speak of minorities They tend to keep their voices low Ah, but when that gets to be the same old thing Shorty you ought to come and see about me