Cryin' Back to Mamma

This piece was an attempt at songwriting. I have made attempts at writing poetry in the past; and in that sense this is my first attempt at writing a song.

It was an effort that was inspired by the presentation on the blues by the group – Barracuda Blues – in the course of the seminar in performance in literature. I wrote this sitting there in the Christ University Auditorium (which has fantastic acoustics) and listening to them. Thank you, guys!!

This song may not cover the day and time when the Blues originated, the beats to it are set to that style; in my mind at least. Anyone out there who wants to give it a shot at setting it to music / singing it? To me the story that the song conveys seems more contemporary and could surprisingly reflect the story and setting closer to home!

And dear Reader, if you consider this a pathetic piece, the brick bats are mine alone.


CRYIN’ BACK TO MAMMA

I’m gonna go cryin’ back to Mamma
Coz if that ain’t gonna work
Then nothing ever will…..
I wan’ a dress for the dance in the fall
And pretty shoes to match steps at the ball
Mamma says she ain’t have no money
But I don’t care much for that honey
She can sell her body, her soul for all I care
But my need, my greed is bare.

I’m gonna go cryin’ back to Mamma
Mamma she works day and night
Toiling by the firelight
Working on the floor, the mop, the bowl,
The oven, the dough, the meat and fowl

I’m gonna go cryin’ back to Mamma
Now Pop he ain’t gonna do nothin’
But park his fat arse on the couch, a cretin
He came in one day drunk to the gills
Yelling at Mamma for not paying the bills
Beer in his belly
Bad breath and burp in his gully
Eye candy on his arm
For darlin’ he had his charm
He walked away taking her dreams
Left her cryin’ streams

I’m gonna go cryin’ back to Mamma
Will give my shoulder in need
Coz I gotta protect my greed
Now my baby waiting for me
At the coffee house by Lincoln Street
He is a dream
Tall, dark and handsome
Perfect for me who is lissome
He and I will buy a house by the lake
Make babies and keep awake
Life will be beautiful and perfect
I shall have the chance to resurrect
My life and dreams, passion and hope
I shall go meet sweet Willie o mine,
Not the Pope
But for now

I’m gonna go cryin’ back to Mamma
Really need that red satin dress
Feels great to caress
And the dancing shoes
Shake the booty and land the hottie
That was my plan
Mamma she worked three jobs
Toilin’ even on the day of the Lord
Told me to stay away from trouble named Willie
I thought she was being jealous ‘n’ silly
I cried to Mamma, my eyes swollen ‘n’ red
So she got me the dress and the shoes, she did

Willie and I we made out
In his car in the parkin’ lot
We made babies we did
Twins, I named Rosie ‘n’ Sid
Willie did not buy the house by the lake
Turned out to be a bloody rake
He beat me up black ‘n’ blue
And shacked with a bitch named Sue
I have no house by the lake
No dreams either
My babies keep me awake

I don’t go no cryin’ to Mamma
God bless her soul, she passed on
And I’m livin’ on
I can’t go no cryin’ back to Mamma
But I’m toiling on

- Written September 21, 2008