I confess to liking some Jazz music. I'm an admirer of Maiya Sykes, Gunhild Carling and Jon Batiste, among others. This song could hardly be called true jazz, but in my mind it is - HAHAHA! Yeah, well. Anyway. The lyrics come from living off the land - which I love more than I can say. If you play the piano, the bass, or a saxophone - have at it - and let me hear the results, please. 😉
I’m living the dream now, living up town
Working 9-5 with a payment down
A7 G C
On a cracker box house and a concrete yard
G D7 G
Mama, this living is dying real hard.
C G D7 G
Yeah, Mama this living is dying real hard. .
Microwave dinners while the sirens sing
Mama I’m missing your voice this Spring
Working real hard - shake the money tree
So I can come home on Christmas Eve
Hope to come home on Christmas Eve
Em B7 A7 D7 G Em B7 A7 D7 C G D7 G
Found me a puppy on the curb outside
Our old dog would teach him how to chase the hide
But the landlord said no pets allowed
Take that little puppy to the puppy pound
Mama, won’t you tell me what I’ve found?
Howdy Mama, figured you might like a surprise
I just hitched a ride up to the county line
Walked the last few miles so I could see your face
Blooming with the flowers when I left in May
Blooming with the flowers when I left in May.
Mama, I reckon I won’t go back to the city
To the 9-5 and the government titty
I’d rather be here where the birds still sing
Where a man with land is a happy King
Yeah, a man with land is a happy King.
Sitting on the front porch drinking kombucha
Watching the sun set over my roots - yeah
This is luxury— this is mama’s lap
Now Mama ain’t lonely and her baby ain’t sad.
Yeah, Mama ain’t lonely and her baby ain’t sad.