Paroles de Yaller

Cab Calloway

pochette album Yaller
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Dark folk, white folk, but never a hand
They say to this man
"you're yaller, you're yaller
You're yaller, you're just a yaller"

Black folk, white folk, i'm learning a lot
You know what i am, i know what i'm not

Ain't even black, i ain't even white
I ain't like the day and i ain't like the night
Feeling mean, so in between
I'm just a high yaller

Ain't even bad, i ain't even good
I don't understand and i ain't understood
Not a friend sticks to the end
When you're yaller

Take me to a church and make me pray
Make me sing a psalm there
You better leave my soul in a crude cafe
I don't even belong there

Oh lord, can't you make a sinner a saint
Why did you start me but run out of paint
Pass me by, a no count yellow man

Lord only knows, i'm trying to rest
I want to be down with a load on my chest
Make my bed, wish i were dead
A yaller man

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