#AncientTexan

Don't Dare Talk About White Male Privilege for the Poor


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Justin Townes Earle

Yuma

Well he woke up that morning and he called into work

Put on his daddy's old suit with a second-hand shirt

All untucked, shoes untied, the people all snickered as he walked by

So he stopped in a bar, bought a shot of Stevens, and another

He bummed a cigarette, and sat talking with a stranger about the weather

And then he paid his bill and he stepped outside, fell down into the street

He cursed, and he cried as he climbed back up to his feet again

So up the road he found a payphone and called his mom

He said, "Mama I think I'll be coming home

I been feeling so bad, and tired of this city

Ain't been the same since I lost my pretty Angeline, Mama I miss her so

It's been over a year and there ain't nothing I fear so much as being alone."

And then he hung up the phone without saying good-bye

Stopped in a store and bought a postcard and signed it

"Fare thee well", and sent it back home to Yuma

Lookin' back I'd say, it wasn't so much the girl

As it was the booze and the dope

And the way he took the weight of the world up upon his shoulders

And let it wash the blue from his eyes as he grew colder

As through all those lonely nights there left alone

So he was just 23 when he stepped out on that ledge

It was his weary heart that pushed him to the edge

He was tired of living life, looking for love

"A weary heart just needs a little touch

And is it too much to ask?", he cried as he stepped into the wind

He turned his back on the world and he fell back to Earth again

So with the wind in his hair and smile on his face

He crashed through the hood of an Olds '98

And he lay there dying on a cold winter's day all alone

All alone

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