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the real blues - paul heaton lyrics

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[verse 1]
i shoulda learned the blues guitar
slunk in the corner of a local bar
sweet home chicago, but not that far
remember your shoes when you follow a star

you can’t sing, “my baby gone done me wrong”
if you’ve kissed and made up by the end of the song
and it don’t make sense to sing, “i’m lonely and blue”
as soon as she’s gone, there’s twenty more in the queue

[verse 2]
i shoulda learned to blow the harp
but blow the harp, your troubles start
you bend the notes then fall apart
shut your mouth and mute your heart

if it seems she’s the reason this lonely heart bled
you can bet there’s a replacement waiting under the bed
if he screams at her so bad, now she’s gone for good
it’ll be the rent he has to pay in a new neighbourhood

[chorus]
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues

[verse 3]
i shoulda known to learn the sax
to paper over the personal cracks
to play a solitary note
the loner’s longest anecdote

singing, “baby, come back” is the finest of arts
he’ll make it sound like it’s direct from his heart
he’s pleading you’re together but he’s loving apart
and you’ll see straight through if you’re quick and you’re smart

[verse 4]
i shoulda taught myself one tune
that attracted folk from other room
a party piece to woo the guests
when neither looks nor words impress

when singing, she’s leaving, there’s a crack in his voice
’cause no one who left was ever offered the choice
baby returns all the flowers i sent
’cause she’s used to getting presents that are only to lend

[chorus]
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues

[bridge]
so he sings of a love he could never quite find
the soul i was searching, but never aligned
i’m not short*sighted, but it’s never been blind
the love that he discovered wasn’t her kind

[verse 5]
i shoulda learned the eight*bar blues
but first you gotta have enough to lose
that loner with a b*n*r ploy
you gotta lose a girl before you’re a bachelor boy

so the truth comes out at the end of the song
you can’t sing it right if your life is so wrong
the deepest blues and the saddest refrain
is locked up tight with a clock on your brain

[chorus]
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues
let’s sing the real sad blues

[outro]
(real sad blues) you could spend all your life trying to master the beat
(real sad blues) ’cause you can’t feel the blues unless you’ve got wet feet
(real sad blues) sing a real sad, real sad, ah
(real sad blues) let’s sing the real sad blues

(real sad blues) the money you blow, the trains that you miss
(real sad blues) you can’t sing the blues if you’re an annie or chris
(real sad blues) no better than the lurch, secretaries behind
(real sad blues) lower than the fact than he acts it refined

(real sad blues) let’s sing a real sad blues
(real sad blues) let’s sing a real sad blues
(real sad blues) let’s sing a real sad blues
(real sad blues) let’s sing a real sad blues

(real sad blues)
(real sad blues)
(real sad blues)
(real sad blues)

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