100,000 Miles

I need a reason to get up before
I wash my face

The junkies, the Hookers, the dealers the place

kickin' off my covers trippin' off the fact

that I haven't called my gramma in a long, long time

standin in the shower for almost half an hour

Tryin' to wake up and I'm lookin for the power

reachin' for the towel with soap in my eyes

dryin' off my shoulders, my chest, and my thighs

The next thing I know the telephone rings

I hear my own voice on the answering machine

please leave a message I'm glad ya called

I listen for a voice but there's nothin' at all

Man oh Man

I gotta kick the blues

and pay respect where respect is due

all praises to GOD the one I return to

the one I can turn to

when I'm feelin burned to the bone


Early in the morn before I wash my face

a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place

At six in the morning she rolled
outa bed

stared out the window and then she said

that I wasn't her type...

I think she's runnin outa types though...and I told her so.

She picked up her things and walked through the door

and then said that she couldn't see me no more

just as she was leaving I asked her if she'd call

she didn't look back said nuttin at all

I didn't change my clothes because they smell like you

and when I took a shower it reminded me of you

I called Gramma Brown for advice

it happened to me once it happened to me twice

Michael my son you sound really bugged

I wish that you were here so I could to you give

a hug then she gave me a long, long talk

she said "you have the patience of ice on a sidewalk"

when things get rough don't sweat it

sometimes in life you just have to let it

and sing out a song so strong

that even a bad dream couldn't bring harm

to the mind of a young childs battles

formed from the candle light shadows

her voice is like a whispering kiss on the forehead


Early in the morn before I wash my face

The bedisstill warmbut there's an empty space

Early in the mornin beforeIwashmy face

a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place

In the last thirty minutes before
I fall asleep

when I have said my prayers and I have brushed my teeth

This is the time when I am forced to think about

all of the things I been tryin to forget about

The Bills, the phone, cleanin up my room

the cars, the traffic, the speakers and the boom

alone I remember the times with me and you

and I realize my heart is shakin' up the room

Gramma she would tell us about the glory days

and gramma she would tell us about when we were slaves

in the livin' room pianos outa tune

on top of it the pictures of every bride and groom

child/ grand child lost child

every single tear shed every single smile

'cause everybodies got alota shit to deal with

and life doesn't stop it just makes ya feel it

so shake the dust offa your feet

take a step forward liberate with the beat

so for you I wrote this song

I wanted you to hear it before you are gone.

the African in me the Seminole in me

These are some a things my grandmother gave

to me some believe there are and some believe there

ain't if ever there was one my gramma Brown she is a saint


Early in the morn before I wash my face

The bed isstill warmbut there'san empty space

Earlyin themornin before I wash my face

a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place

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