Am   Dm  Am  Am,  Am  Dm  Am Am

            Am                   Dm                          Am       

This morning I woke up in a curfew;

Am  Dm                       E                      

Oh God, I was a prisoner, too - yeah!

Am                         Dm                                           Am

Could not recognize the faces standing over me;

Am                        Dm                                      E

They were all dressed in uniforms of brutality. Eh!

How many rivers do we have to cross,

Before we can talk to the boss? Eh!

All of we got, it seems we have lost;

We must have really paid the cost. (That's why we gonna be)

Am                         Dm         Am                  Am

Burnin' and a-lootin' tonight (Say we gonna burn and loot)

Burnin' and a-lootin' tonight (One more thing)

Burnin' all pollution tonight (Oh, yeah, yeah)

Burnin' all illusion tonight.  (Oh, stop them!)

Give me the food and let me grow

Let the Roots Man take a blow.

All them drugs gonna make you slow now

It's not the music of the ghetto. Eh!

Weeping and a-wailin' tonight (Who can stop the tears?)

Weeping and a-wailin' tonight (We've been suffering these long, long-a years!)

Weeping and a-wailin' tonight (Will you say cheer?)

Weeping and a-wailin' tonight (But where?)

Give me the food and let me grow

Let the roots man take a blow. (I must say –)

All them, all them drugs gonna make you slow

It's not the music from the ghetto.   (We gonna be)

chorus 1

Burning and a-looting tonight x3 and fade

               A                     E                       D                           A

Well, I tried, and I tried, But the river seems so wide.

                 D         E                                             A

And my head hurts and my hands are tied.

                 A        E                                 D                             A

And it's so... hard,When you're standing on the yard,

             D                          E                                A.  (D A)

Every time that your number comes a-round.

                         A                                      D

Call me up in Dreamland, radio to me man.

                                   A                                     E

Get the message to me, anyway you can.

                                      A                                              D

Well, let your river roll, a-way down in your soul,

                              A     E                                   D      A

Never to grow old...      on the saxophone.

From the airport, to the plane, A-way to the railroad trains.

Why can't we take it from the top, And start all over again?

Everytime you hear that whistle blow, You know you gotta put on your show;

Every time your Enumber comes a-round.

Chorus

Sax solo on verse.

From the car, to the bar; Or why don't you pour it in a jar?

An put a label on it, And send it off to the lost and found.

You've gotta get it in your brain, But before you go insane;

Every time your number comes around. (Here it comes);

Chorus 3

Coda:                    A    E                              D   A

Never to grow old… on the saxophone

Never to grow old… on the saxophone.