The Blues Lyrics - Randy Newman

He's gonna tell you 'bout his dear old mother 

Burned up in a factory in Springfield, Mass. 

He's gonna tell you 'bout his baby brother 

Hustlin' down the city streets 

And selling his ass for a dollar bag 

He's gonna tell you 'bout his uncle Neddy 

Locked up in a prison out in Oregon 

He's gonna tell you 'bout his best friend Eddie 

Killed in a bar fight with a pair of Marines 

And a sailor 

Oh 

He's got the blues, this boy 

He's got the blues 

You can hear it in his music 

He's got the blues, this boy 

He's got the blues 

You can hear it, you can hear it 

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When I was nine years old 

My daddy ran away 

With a woman he met on a train, oh 

His little boy 

Ran to the room 

Where his piano 

Lay in wait for him 

He played and he played 

He played and he played 

He's got the blues, this boy 

He's got the blues 

You can hear it, you can hear it 

He's got the blues, this boy 

He's got the blues 

A year ago, I met a girl 

I thought we'd hit a massive groove 

But she dumped me 

And all we'd hit were the blues 

Photos 

He's got the blues, this boy 

He's got the blues 

You can hear it in his music 

He's got the blues, this boy 

He's really got the blues