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The Death of Bessie Smith

Ali Hughes
Langue: anglais




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Oh she never had a good man, Always had it hard
Trouble seam's to fallow, Everywhere she Goss
As her life got older, her troubles seemed to grow

Sing to me, sing to me St Louis Blues
Sing to me, sing to me St Louis Blues
If I cry in the middle, the Bessie give me the blues

Hard times in the city, Hard times in the street
Hard times always with her, from everyone she meets
But in the Harlem gin house, she sung, her voice so sweet

Sing to me, sing to me St Louis Blues
Sing to me, sing to me St Louis Blues
If I cry in the middle, the Bessie give me the blues

When the car came of the road, Bessie was still alive
If she was white, she shore would have survived
Because of her colour, they passed that woman by

Sing to me, sing to me St Louis Blues
Sing to me, sing to me St Louis Blues
If I cry in the middle, the Bessie give me the blues..

The greatest of the Blues, No other could come near
Her voice boomed from her hart, With no fear at all
They way she sung the blues, would thriller your very sole

Sing to me, sing to me St Louis Blues...

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