Chapter 50 The Weary Blues

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon, I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other night By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light He did a lazy sway.... He did a lazy sway.... To the tune o those Weary Blues. With his ebony hands on each ivory key He made that poor piano moon with melody. O Blues! Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool. Sweet Blues! Coming from a black mans soul. O Blues! In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moon--

"Aint got nobody in all this world, Aint got nobody but ma self. Is gwine to quit ma frownin And put ma troubles on the shelf." Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor. He played a few chords then he sang some more-- "I got the Weary Blues And I cant be satisfied. Got the Weary Blues And can't be satisfied-- I aint happy no mo And I wish that I had died." And far into the night he crooned that tune. The stars went out and so did the moon. The singer stopped playing and went to bed While the Weary Blues echoed through his head. He slept like a rock or a man thats dead.