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 havent called my gramma in a long, long time
Standin in the shower/ for almost half an hour
Tryin to wake up/ and Im 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/ Im glad ya called
I listen for a voice /but theres 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 Im feelin burned to the bone
(chorus)
Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
The bed is still warm but theres an empty space
Easrly 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 wasnt her type...
I think shes runnin outa types though...and I told her so.
She picked up her things and walked through the door
And then said that she couldnt see me no more
Just as she was leaving /i asked her if shed call
She didnt look back / said nuttin at all
I didnt 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/ dont sweat it
Sometimes in life you just have to let it
And sing out a song / so strong
That even a bad dream couldnt 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
(chorus)
Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
The bedisstill warmbut theres 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 doesnt 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
Aint if ever there was one my gramma brown she is a saint
(chorus)
Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
The bed isstill warmbut theresan empty space
Earlyin themornin/ before I wash my face
A hundred thousand miles is a lonely place
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