I've seen the lights of gay Broadway,
Old Market Street down by the Frisco Bay,
I've strolled the Prado, I've gambled on the Bourse.
The seven wonders of the world I've seen,
And many are the places I have been.
Take my advice folks and see Beale Street first.
Chorus 1: You'll see pretty Browns in beautiful gowns,
You'll see tailor mades and hand me downs.
You'll meet honest men and pickpockets skilled,
You'll find that bus'ness never closes till somebody gets killed.
Chorus 2: You'll see Hog-Nose rest'rants and Chitlin' Cafes,
You'll see Jugs that tell of bygone days,
And places, once places, now just a shame,
You'll see Golden Balls enough to pave the New Jerusalem.
Chorus 3: You'll see men who rank with the first in the nation,
Who come to Beale for inspiration. Politicians call you a dub,
Unless you've been initiated in the Rickriters Club.
Chorus 4: If Beale Street could talk, If Beale Street could talk,
Married men would have to take their beds and walk,
Except one or two, who never drank booze,
And the blind man on the corner who sings the Beale Street Blues.
The Blues: I'd rather be here, than any place I know.
I'd rather be here, than any place I know.
It's goin' to take the Seargent For to make me go,
Goin' to the river, maybe, bye and bye,
Goin' to the river, maybe, bye and bye,
Because the rivers wet And Beale Street's done gone dry.
