Tell Mama

Tell my people that I’m gone. I hit the road before the sun. Tell my mother life is rough. To say I’ll stay is but a bluff. These leaves are dry, the trees are dead, Our soil is baked and very red. Our bright blue skies now cold and red, All hopes right here are gone and dead. Tell my people I’m gone ahead To find a life without this dread. I’ll find a way, I’ll do my best, And beat my hand upon my chest. Tell my mother, when I gleam, I’ll bring her too within my realm. Tell my mother not to cry. I know it breaks her world I fly. Tell her too, I love her true, Although my passion now is new. I do sojourn to foreign lands To find the place my fortune stands. Tell mama some gold I’d track, And when I’m done, then I’ll be back!