It’s Saturday night in old South Park and the blues is blastin’ from the stage
of the Bar & Grill to the street where we celebrate and dance the blues away
in the wailing of bass guitar, sax, harp and strokin’ of sticks and brushes

Taking me back to where my grand papi and the blues were born
in Mississippi Delta moonshine where the cotton fields calloused his hands
and where my grand uncle’s blood flowed in Mississippi mud

Isabel is serving food and drinks in her skin tight blue jeans
blissin’ and blessin’ from behind while I sip my wine and scratch a line
on a blank piece of paper searching for love in rhythm and rhyme

As the night wears on strains from the sax stream across the room
into my backseat as I ride home alone with the blues serenading me
and I turn off the lights and dream of Isabel’s divine derriere

Take me back to where my grand papi and the blues were born
in Mississippi Delta moonshine where the cotton fields calloused his
hands and where grand uncle’s blood flowed in Mississippi mud

Take me back to were grandpapi and the blues were born
take me back
take me back
take me back!