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
Bring him smoke and drink and he'll play for you lt's mostly muttering now and sideshow spiel But there was one song he played I could really feel
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 hey day 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