"Say that boy's a wonderment"
"No! The kid's a freak"
But that kid he don't care none
His black hands resting on the keys
Hoppin' like a big old frog
And hissin' like a train
All points east, west and in-between
General he's a fine old man
Treat him like his own
"Boy wouldn't know from money"
Just throw old Blind Tom a bone
From the times of King Cotton
May we present to you
All you Jim Crow monkeys
From Harlan County down to Tuscaloo
Play me anything you like
I'll play it back to you
Be careful what you call me though
Some things cut clear on through
I may be an idiot
I may be a savant
I didn't choose this life for me
But it's something that I want
Cocks that old big head aside
Grunts a word or two
Keeps 'em guessin' every night
Is he really gonna make it through
Faint hearts with their fans out
Starched collars and cigars
He weren't no use for slavin'
"I wouldn't want him in my yard"