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| Baez Joan Blessed Are... San Francisco Mabel Joy His daddy was a simple man, just a red dirt Georgia farmer And his momma spent her young live havin´ kids and balin´ hay He had fifteen years and an ache inside to wander So he hopped a freight in Waycross and wound up in L.A. Lord, the cold nights had no pity on a Waycross, Georgia farm boy Most days he went hungry then the summer came He met a girl known on the strip as San Francisco´s Mabel Joy Destitution´s child born of an L.A. street called "Shame" Growin´ up came quietly in the arms of Mabel Joy Laughter found their mornings brought meaning to his life Yes the night before she left sleep came and left that Waycross, Georgia boy with dreams of Georgia cotton and a California wife Sonday morning found him standin´ ´neath the red light at her door When a right cross sent him reelin´ put him face down on the floor In place of Mabel Joy he found a merchant mad marine Who growled, "Your Georgia neck is red but sunny, you´re still green" He turned twenty-one in a grey rock fed´ral prison The old judge had no mercy for a Waycross, Georgia boy Starin´ at those four grey walls in silence he would listen To that midnight freight he knew would take him back to Mabel Joy Sunday morning´ found him standin´ ´neath the red light at her door With a bullet in his side, he cried, "Have you seen Mabel Joy?" Stunned and shaken someone said, "Why she´s not here no more She left this house four years today, they say she´s lookin´ for some Georgia farm boy." Mickey Newbury Copyright 1969 by Acuff-Rose Publications, Inc. BMI 4:23 |
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