Chorus 1: You’ll see pretty Browns in beautiful gowns,
You’ll see tailor mades and hand me downs.
You’ll meet honest men and pickpockets skilled,
You’ll find that bus’ness never closes till somebody gets killed.

Chorus 4: If Beale Street could talk, If Beale Street could talk,
Married men would have to take their beds and walk,
Except one or two, who never drank booze,
And the blind man on the corner who sings the Beale Street Blues.

The Blues: I’d rather be here, than any place I know.
I’d rather be here, than any place I know.
It’s goin’ to take the Sergeant for to make me go.

Goin’ to the river, maybe, bye and bye,
Goin’ to the river, maybe, bye and bye,
Because the rivers wet and Beale Street’s done gone dry.