Blind Alfred Reed
Blind man walking to the town
All by his lonesome self
Three miles every morning
He doesn’t need no help
He’s never once complaining
Bout the hand that he was dealt
He’s got to make a living
Like everybody else

He sets up on the corner
Down on Temple Street Sells
the songs he’s written
For just 10 cents a sheet
He sings about the hard times
And the coming of the Lord
Put a penny in his tin cup If that’s all you can afford

Blind man on a dusty road
Walking all alone
He’s got a pound of bacon
He’s headed back to home
Today has been a good day
Some days are hard as hell
But he’s got to feed his children
Like everybody else

Chorus

Blind man at the station In the blazing summer heat
He’s gonna catch a slow train
To Bristol, Tennesse
No way for him to know
That he’ll make history
It’s August 27
His name is Alfred Reed

Chorus