The windy city my playground.
A kid with the keys to the cash register,
jackin people for a buck.

Slippin through the North end undetected
to roll  a Jake of a Mick and bring it back
to Bester's tavern. To live and be loved,

as long as the rounds were on me.
Only seventeen, I honored the rules,
 lived in true tradition of my city.

The man of the house had been gone for years
and I wasn't doin a good job. She saw the anger in me,
and beat me down with her eyes. I could say nothin.

I was flyin high in the city lights tryin to turn a quick buck
just a scheme down by the Tip Top, when he grabbed me.
Pullin me from his cruiser, he warned my mother.

She wouldn't say a word for a number of days.
There they were, all packed up.
Suitcases and a ticket on the ten - fifteen

A rick, rack, ride across the country,
in the black of night, on the steel rail.

The daylight left me standin

lost in the Shendoah Valley.
Surrrounded by half baked hicks,
dodgin sunshade and bath water.

He took the smoke from my mouth,
crushed it on the ground, my stuff in back
of that old truck, the road went on for  miles.

I watched as he pulled away
and looked up the winding road
to the house of Sadie McCall.

Man, what a grip she had. She fed me
and put me down in the front room. When I looked
for the bathroom, she pointed outside and smiled.

No postman, No phone calls.
No Saturday Evening Post,
or Captain Midnight on the radio.

I chopped wood till my hands bled.
I carried water up the mountain.
So angry, so bitter.

I was out mending fences, when Sadie
sat next to me and told me " let it go,
live a while ". With the sun slippin down,
I watched Sadie pickin blackberries
in the open field, much like the one I left behind.
As she was cookin jam, I sat on the porch.

I never knew there were that many stars
With crickets chirpin and the smell of blackberry jam
all around, I took a deep breath and let it go.

And there I was, Sunday mornin, lookin
for a Redeemer, at the church on the bottom
of the mountain with Sadie holdin my hand.

I cried when I left Aunt Sadie
and could not sleep on the way back home.
I could see Sadie fillin the room with her voice.

Bangin away on the old stand up,
as I was puttin the clean on the windows,
jumpin in on the chorus.

I got a real job, filling trucks on the dock. I was slippin
a five minute break in the sun of the sidewalk.
When happenstance would bring me a couple of Jakes,

from Bester's, Zoot suits flairin with two tone wingtips
and silk lined hats. Sharp as a tack an easy on the eyes.

Tryin real hard, to separate the Jimmy from the Jake.
"Where you been? We got a place for you,
and Tony's gotta better job up on easy street."

" Naw! It ain't what you see boys. I don’t have
no markers out, an little old ladies ain't all the same.
I'd rather spend my days making blackberry jam."