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\n\n\n\nLyrics<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You’ll see pretty Browns in beautiful gowns
You’ll see tailor mades and hand me, downs
You’ll meet honest men and pick-pockets skilled
You’ll find that bus’ness never closes till somebody gets killed<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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 sham,
You’ll see Golden Balls enough to pave the New Jerusalem<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Beale Street Blues:
I’d rather be here, than any place I know
I’d rather be here than any place I know
It’s going to take the Sergent, for to make me go<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Goin’ to the river, maybe, bye and bye
Goin’ to the river, and there’s a reason why
Because the rivers wet and Beale Streets done gone dry<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nSung here by Fred Feild:<\/p>\n\n\n\n