Plopped down in the corner café
Lost another job, nothin’ left to say.
Bummed a roll ‘n some coffee in his usual way,
You be a songster, you be no damn good.
“No damned good, you be no damn good,”
Cheat the devil at the crossroads if you could,
Grandma nagged at daddy as she served his food,
You be a songster, you be no damn good.
Hocked mama’s silver for a bigger amp,
Daddy sang like a dove but lived like a tramp.
Sponging off everyone in the neighborhood,
You be a songster, you be no damn good.
“No damned good, you be no damn good,”
Cheat the devil at the crossroads if you could,
“It’s not whether you can, but if’n ya should.”
You be a songster, you be no damn good.
In the fullness of wine… wrote some tunes myself,
Singin’ bout grandma, I sho miss her wealth.
Now I’m makin’ jingles for beans in Hollywood,
You be a songster, you be no damn good.
“No damned good, you be no damned good,”
Cheat the devil at the crossroads if you could,
And he let you win – jus’ to suck your blood,
You be a songster, you be no damn good.
Woke up at noon - a church parking lot
Waitin’ for a check but it sure is hot,
Surely the Lord won’t leave me here to rot.
You be a songster, you be no damn good.
She cried “No damned good, you be no damned good,”
You’d sell my false teeth if you could,
And that boy is watchin’ your every move,
You be the songster, you’ll be no damn good.
“No damned good… you be no damn good,”
Cheat the devil at the crossroads… if you could,
“It’s not whether you can… but if’n ya should.”
You be a songster, you be no damn good.
[photo of Kevin Robinson at the Corner Cafe, Navasota, Texas]
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