I would never read a book if it were possible for me to talk half an hour with the man who wrote it.
Woodrow Wilson
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Rich Kids Blues
Bubble, bubble straight to my head
The richer, the ?, I believe in the liar
You're bringin' trouble, trouble back in my bed
When nobody can save me 'cause the smoke is my baby, baby
Mama, I got your white lie ways
Mama, there's nothing you can do or say
I got the rich kid's blues and they got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through
Why you, why you over my head?
Mama, she told me keep your eyes on the trophy
And the sighing, sighing is out of your bed
For delirious gestures are so easily misread
Mama, got your white lie taste
Mama, there's nothing you can do or say
I got the rich kid's blues and they got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through
I got the rich kid's blues and they got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through
I got the rich kid's blues
Mama, got your white lie ways
Mama, got the rich kid's blues