Classic Poem

W. C. Handy , 1914

VERSE 1

I hate to see de evening sun go down,
Hate to see de evenin' sun go down.
Cause my baby, he done lef dis town.
Feelin' tomorrow lak ah feel today,
Feel tomorrow lak ah feel today,
I'll pack my trunk, make ma gitaway.
St. Louis woman, wid her diamon' rings
Pulls dat man 'roun' by her apron strings.
'Twant for powder an' fer store-bought hair,
De man ah love would not gone nowhere.

REFRAIN 1

Got de St. Louis blues, jes blue as ah can be.
Dat man got a heart lak a rock cast in the sea,
Or else he wouldn't gone so far from me.

VERSE 2

Doggone it!
Been to de Gypsy to get ma fortune tole,
To de Gypsy done got ma fortune tole,
Cause I'm is wile 'bout ma Jelly Roll.
Gypsy done tole me, " Don't you wear no black, "
Yes, she done tole me, " Don't you wear no black.
Go to St. Louis, you can win him back. "
Help me to Cairo, make St. Louis by maself,
Git to Cairo, find ma ole friend Jeff.
Gwine to pin maself close to his side.
If ah flag his train, I sho can rise.

REFRAIN 2

I loves dat man lak a schoolboy loves his pie,
Lak a Kentucky Col'nel loves his mint and rye.
I'll love ma baby till de day ah die

VERSE 3

You ought to see that stovepipe brown of mine,
Lak he owns de Dimon Joseph line.
He'd make a crosseye woman go stone blin'.
Blacker than midnight, teeth lak flags of truce,
Blackest man in de whole St. Louis.
Blacker de berry, sweeter are the juice.
About a crap game he knows a pow'ful lot,
But when worktime comes, he's on the dot.
Gwine to ask him fer a cold ten-spot.
What it takes to git it, he's cert'nly got.