Sixto Rodriguez Quotes

Sugar Man, won't you hurry
'cause I'm tired of these scenes.
For a blue coin, won't you bring back
all those colors to my dreams?
Silver magic ships, you carry
jumpers, coke, sweet Mary Jane.
Sugar Man met a false friend
on a lonely dusty road.
Lost my heart. When I found it
it had turned to dead black coal.

Woman, please be gone.
You've stayed here much too long.
Don't you wish that you could cry?
Don't you wish I would die?
Seamy seesaw kids.
Child-women on the skids.
The dust will choke you blind.
The lust will choke your mind.
I kiss the floor, one kick, no more.
The pig and hose have set me free.
I've tasted Hate Street's hanging tree.
I've tasted Hate Street's hanging tree.

Was it a huntsman or a player
that made you pay the cost
that now assumes relaxed positions
And prostitutes your loss?
Were you tortured by your own thirst
in those pleasures that you seek
that made you Tom the Curious;
that makes you James the Weak?
And you claim you've got something going,
something you call unique,
but I've seen your self-pity showing
as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

But thanks for your time.
Then you can thank me for mine.
And after that's said,
forget it.
Don't be inane,
there's no one to blame:
no reason why
you should stay here
and lie to me.
Don't say any more,
just walk out the door,
I'll get along fine.
You'll see.

Don't sit and wait.
Don't sit and dream.
Put on a smile,
go find a scene.
I'm sure you'd meet
someone who would really love you.
Don't sit and hope.
Don't sit and pine.
If you've been hurt
make up your mind.
I'm sure you'd find
someone who would really love you.

Street boy,
you've been out too long.
Street boy,
ain't you got enough sense to go home?
Street boy,
you're gonna end up alone.
You need some love and understanding,
not that dead end life you're planning,
street boy.

I wonder how many times you've been had.
And I wonder how many plans have gone bad.
I wonder how many times you had sex?
And I wonder do you know who'll be next?
I wonder. I wonder. Wonder, I do.
I wonder about the love you can't find.
And I wonder about the loneliness that's mine.
I wonder how much going have you got?
And I wonder about your friends that are not.
I wonder. I wonder. Wonder I do.

The Mayor hides the crime rate.
Council woman hesitates.
Public gets irate but forgets the vote date.
Weatherman complaining "Predicted sun. It's raining."
Everyone's protesting. Boyfriend keeps suggesting
you're not like all of the rest.
Garbage ain't collected. Women ain't protected.
Politicians using people they're abusing.
The mafia's getting bigger, like pollution in the river
and you tell me that this is where it's at.

Born in the troubled city
in rock and roll USA
in the shadow of the tallest building,
I vowed I would break away.
Listened to the Sunday actors
but all they would ever say:
That you can't get away from it.
No you can't get away.
No you can't get away from it.
No you can't get away.

I've played every kind of gig there is to play now.
I've played faggot bars, hooker bars, motor cycle funerals,
in opera houses, concert halls, halfway houses.
Well, I found that in all these places that I've played
all the people that I've played for are the same people.
So if you'll listen, maybe you'll see someone you know in this song.
A most disgusting song.

Now you sit there thinking. Feeling insecure.
The mocking court gesture claims there is no proven cure.
Go back to your chamber, your eyes upon the wall.
'Cos you got no one to listen, you got no one to call.
And you think I'm curious.
Drifting, drowning in a purple sea of doubt
you wanna hear she loves you
but the words don't fit the mouth.
You're a loser, a rebel-a-cause-without.
But don't think me callous.

And I'll forget about the girl that said no.
Then I'll tell who I want where to go.
And I'll forget about your lies and deceit
and your attempts to be so discreet.
Maybe today, yeah,
I'll slip away.
And you can keep your symbols of success.
Then I'll pursue my own happiness.
And you can keep your clocks and routines.
Then I'll go mend all my shattered dreams.
Maybe today, yeah,
I'll slip away.

Going down a dirty inner city side road,
I plotted.
Madness passed me by, she smiled Hi.
I nodded.
Looked up as the sky began to cry;
she shot it.
Met a girl from Dearborn early six o'clock this morn:
a cold fact.
Asked about her bag. "Suburbia's such a drag,
won't go back,
'cause Papa don't allow no new ideas here,
and now he sees the news, but the picture's not too clear."

The moon is hanging
in the purple sky.
The baby's sleeping
while its mother sighs.
Talking about the rich folks:
rich folks have the same jokes
and they park in basic places.
The priest is preaching
from a shallow grave.
He counts his money
then he paints you saved.
Talking to the young folks:
young folks share the same jokes
but they'd meet in older places.

Just a song we shared, I'll hear
brings memories back, when you were here
of your smile, your easy laughter,
of your kiss. Those moments after.
I think of you
and think of you
and think of you.