Poem | She’s familiar, | aint that the blues | Sleeping beside her, | everyone knew | Chipped beef on Monday, | Thursday cold stew | Dishes piled high, | paycheck gone through | She’s familiar, | ain’t that the blues | Home from work early, | today around noon | Mattress was creaking, | my pistol I drew | Two shots in my brother, | —four more in the flooze | (Chicago Illinois: Performed with Clinton Mace at Cabrini Greene 1985) |
| She’s familiar, | aint that the blues | Sleeping beside her, | I always knew | Chipped beef on Monday, | Thursday cold stew | Dishes piled high, | paycheck gone through | She’s familiar, | ain’t that the blues | Home from work early, | today around noon | Mattress was creaking, | my pistol I drew | Two shots in my brother, | —four more in the flooze | (Chicago Illinois: Performed with Clinton Mace at Cabrini Green 1985) |
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