First Class Blues

Editor’s Note: What would happen if some old bluesman from the Delta had actually made a lot of money before he died, and not just after some British guy covered one of his songs? 

First Class Blues

I’m sufferin’, Lord, I’m near the end.
I’m sufferin’, Lord, I’m near the end.
I’m in an aisle seat, no window,
And their only Scotch is just a blend.

Please come save me, Lord, from this storm.
Please come save me, Lord, from this storm.
My mixed nuts are mostly almonds,
And those are barely warm.

Help me, Lord, I feel a fool.
Help me, Lord, I feel a fool.
There’s no mo’ steak, there’s only chicken.
And the cold shrimp cocktail’s barely cool.

Steel me, Lord, for my final stand.
Steel me, Lord, for my final stand.
My wine was spilled and sticky,
And there’s no hot towels to cleanse my hand.

Save me, Lord, I must repeat.
Save me, Lord, I must repeat.
I went down to the crossroads,
But at twenty-seven thousand feet.

Hear me, Lord, I’m sore afraid.
(I said) Hear me, Lord, I’m sore afraid.
I used up all my coupons,
This was my last upgrade.

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