Well, I wake up late in the afternoon, I eat my eggs to the evening news, and the sun's gone down before I find my shoes. Music fills the air, but it's all the blues. She won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away. Well, we got no heat, and the windows broke, the flood rains came, everything got soaked, and there's no bread left, nothing here to smoke. Then the Lord looks down, saying, can't you take a joke? She won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, oh no, no she won't let me fly away. A palm tree's just a picture on a bus card, the ocean's just a memory in my dreams, and a man comes on the TV selling salsa to dirty up my blues and my schemes. Like a mystery movie without an end, when you think it's over it just begins, it's not always true that the good guy wins, I've been down so long that I got the blues. She won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, oh no, no she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away, she won't let me fly away.