Yes, some were teethed
on a silver spoon
With a star hung high for a rattle
People I was teethed like the
black raccoon
As instruments of battle.
For I was born on Saturday,
A bad time to plant your seed.
The only thing my father said,
Another mouth to feed.
When I was born, oh, the rain fell hard
And misery piled high round
my mama's door
The first two words that I ever cried
Were hungry and more
For I was born on Saturday,
a bad time to plant your seed
And the only thing my mama said,
another mouth to feed
For I'm the brother to the Black Raccoon
And the kin to all things wild
And the only thing God said to me,
Boy, your Saturday is child
For some were teased on a silver spoon
With a star hung high for a rattle
People I was teasing,
like the black raccoon,
As instruments of battle.
For I was born on Saturday
A bad time to plant your seed
And the only thing that they said to me
Bye for