Harlem

Summer night in Harlem, man it’s a really hot
Well it’s too hot to sleep, and I’m too cold to heat
I don’t care if I die or not

Winter night in Harlem
Radiator won’t get hot
Well the mean old landlord, he don’t care
If I freeze to death or not

Saturday night in Harlem, everything’s allright
You can really swing and shake you’re pretty
Everything’s allright

Sunday morning here in Harlem, everybody’s all dressed up
While the hip folks gettin’ a home from the party
And the good folks just got up
Crooked delegation wants a donation
To send the preacher to the holy land,
Hey, hey lawd, honey don’t give your money to that lying, cheatin’ man.

Cold Baloney

Cold Baloney, and I’m home by myself.
Well I’m five years old, and it sure is cold
Mama’s out cookin’ steak for someone else
Sure am sleepy, but I’m gonna wait till my mama comes
Well if the rich folks don’t eat up all that good meat,
Mama’s gonna brings me some.

Talking about that cold baloney, mayonaise, and bread
Well if it wasn’t for cold baloney, you know I would have been dead.

Poor mama, she sure looks tired
She said “what you eatin’ son?”
“I believe that cold baloney sandwich looks good.
Would you please fix you mama one?”

Talking about cold baloney, mayonaise, and bread
Well if it wasn’t for cold baloney, you know I would have been dead
Baloney was good enough for my father, good enough for my mother
That baloney saved me and my brother

Cold baloney, mayonaise, and bread

Words and Music by
Bill Withers