Born wid de blues

I got de blues evuh since I been. I wuz born wid de blues, ef you know what I talkin' a-bout.
De blues wuz deep inside er me en I wudn't let it go, but one day, de sun wuz shinin' brite en de bids wuz singin' en I still got de blues en 't wuz achin' pain all 'roun' ma poo' heart en I wuz feelin' I cain't git alon' no mo' wid it. I tryinna lay down but I wudn't lay en I tryinna put ma foots unduh de table, but dey wudn't stay still en den I g'abb'd ma unkel Jubbah's harp en begin to blow ma blues out. I wuz jist a chile, I spose I wuz ten, de year wuz niteen twelve. Ma mama heahn me a-blowin' en done cum en took me by de neck en did her do wid ma ears en den she tole me: "Son, 't'aint no need fo' you to be dealin' wid de Devil, like yo' poo' ole man en like yo' unkel Jubbah heah… Now lissen to me, boy. Ef you evuh feel sad en lonesome, go to de chuch en do yo' shoutin' en yo' prayin' en pray to Dea' Mighty Lord to help you git out er de blues jist like He helpt Moses en de folks er Holly People gittin' out er Egypt. En boy", she sayin', "ef you evuh gonna play de Devil's music, you'll has de ass burnin' en yo' poo' soul's to be dammed till de Jumment Day. Now take dis barrel er water en roll it to de men ovuh deah in de cotton-field, 'cause dey begin deah hollerin''. Dis is what she wuz tellin' me. But I wudn't lissen. Oh, I tryinna git me religion, Lordie God know I did, but ebrytime I put a foot in f'ont er anoduh en git ma sinnin' bones to de chuch en done shout en done pray, de blues wuz still deah, all 'roun' ma achin' heart en I felt lonesome en blieft de life ain't worth a dime but a penny. So I put massef on de back er de mule en went down town to Yazoo, 't'wuz seven miles fa' f'om our home, en I went in a honky-tonk en I axed de man deah ef he wud evuh care givin' me an ole harp. But he wudn't care. En an ole man sittin' ovah deah, Blind Papa Silas by his name, wuz lissenin' as I axin' fo' de harp en sayin' "What in de wold wud you need a harp, boy? Who done sent you axin' fo' it?". Jist think 'bout it, a chile axin' fo' an ole harp, 't'aint sumfin like potatoes but sumfin like meat. De poo' Blind Papa Silas wuz a blues player, he wuz born slave but he wuz also born blind, en his massa set him free to take de road en play fo' de folks on de plantations. He's de un dat done tought me how to play bo' de harp en de guitar, but dis wuz to be some years later, jist arter Charlie Patton done cum by his preacher fader - you know, he had two fades, de un wuz a preacher en de otha' n a minstrel, en heah I wuz, lissenin' to his playin' en tryinna git what he wuz singin' but a man would'n to de job. Nosuh, deah wuzn't any man in de whole wide-open world er dis creation dat could git four words outta ten in his singin' o' speakin'. He wuz quite a jerk, but he could play jist like Peter could preach. En arter I hearin' im playin' in de ole Cleophus'es backyard, I done knowed dat I wuz to becum a blues player. Yassuh, I jist knowed. So I walked down to Papa Silas en axed him to teach me how to play de guitar. I 'membah dat de fust song I knewed wuz "Mississippi Bo-Weevil", ef you know it. It's a tune in C, dat's de only chord, but de timin' en pickin' may put a man down. You know, de boo-weevil wuz a bug dat messin' aroun' by de cotton fields en you cou'dn't git him outta yo' mine,day en nite, 'cause he wuz killin' deat ebry farmuh. More dan one family packt 'em things en took de road up to Memphis, 'cause deah wuzn't no way to stay in de Delta. Nossuh, deah wuzn't, en Saint Gabbiel is ma witness. Ma poo' mama wuz prayin' by en by to de Mighty Lawd, but He didn't seem much to lissen. En dis a-while I wuz studyin' ma mine en finguh on de guitar wid Papa Silas. I 'membah dat ebrytime I wuz losin' a fingah while a-pickin', he wuz slappin' ma hands en sayin' "Boy, ef you ain't gonna pick rite, de peoples dancin' is losin' deah timin' en deah temper too en you is to be kick upon yo' ass til' you'll see de Holly Ghost a-comin' cross de rivah. Now looky heah en lissen how it souns en try to membah next time. En try to put mo' strength in dat bottleneck, 'cause it ain't no rider to caress." Dis is how I wuz thought to playin' de guitar.