I included this song in the William Tell Show playlist because it never fails to move me. I think it may be one of the saddest songs ever written.
These days, it has me conflicted.
The lyrics begin:
Oh girl, I’d be in trouble if you leave me now.
I don’t know where to look for love,
and I don’t know how.
Then comes the bridge:
All my friends say I’m a fool.
They say, Let your woman take care of you.
This is a recipe for poverty.
These days, now that I’m seeking to become upwardly mobile, upward mobility becomes something I can talk about. My walk informs my talk. But I don’t know what to say when the conversations of the men around me are like this.
The plan for getting a roof over one’s head, for becoming un-homeless, is to move in with a female and become essentially her houseguest — indefinitely. There is no talk of helping with rent, groceries or utilities. All those come from her wages, her food stamps, her government benefits. Apparently, the only thing the man brings to the table is his big black cock — and maybe the booze and pot.
Related: Markese Reese, Marqua Wilson: He brought the pot.
At the first and least irritation, she can put you out, and your ass is back on the street.
I’d say: GET YOUR NAME ON THE LEASE.
They have no intention of doing that.
Men who maintain this mentality will never be upwardly mobile.