Furry Sings the Blues

Old Beale Street is coming down
Sweeties' Snack Bar, boarded up now
And Eagles The Tailor and the Shine Boy's gone
Faded out with ragtime blues

Handy's cast in bronze
And he's standing in a little park with his trumpet in his hand
Like he's listening back to the good old bands
And the click of high-heeled shoes

Old Furry sings the blues
Propped up in his bed with his dentures and his leg removed
And Ginny's there for her kindness and Furry's beer
She's the old man's angel overseer

Pawn shops glitter like gold tooth caps
In the grey decay
They chew the last few dollars off old Beale Street's carcass
Carrion and mercy

Blue and silver sparkling drums
Cheap guitars, eye shades, and guns
Aimed at the hot blood of being no one
Down and out in Memphis, Tennessee

Old Furry sings the blues
You bring him smoke and drink, and he'll play for you
It's mostly muttering now and sideshow spiel
But there was one song he played I could really feel

(Fury's got nobody)
(Old Fury's got nobody)

There's a double bill murder at the New Daisy
The old girl's silent across the street
She's silent, waiting for the wrecker's beat
Silent, staring at her stolen name

Diamond boys and satin dolls
Bourbon laughter, ghosts, history falls
To parking lots and shopping malls
As they tear down old Beale Street

Old Furry sings the blues
He points a bony finger at you and says, "I don't like you"
Everybody laughs as if it's the old man's standard joke
But it's true, we're only welcome for our drink and smoke

W.C. Handy, I'm rich, and I'm fay
And I'm not familiar with what you played
But I get such strong impressions of your heyday
Looking up and down old Beale Street

Ghosts of the darktown society
Come right out of the bricks at me
Like it's a Saturday night, they're in their finery
Dancing it up and making deals

Furry sings the blues
Why should I expect that old guy to give it to me true?
Fallen to hard luck and time and other thieves
While our limo is shining on his shanty street
Old Furry sings the blues