text: Say that boys a wonderment
  No! The kids a freak
  But that kid he dont care none
  His black hands resting on the keys
  Hopping like a big old frog
  And hissing like a train
  Entertaining royalty
  All points east, west and in-between
  General hes a fine old man
  Treat him like his own
  Boy wouldnt know from money
  Just throw old Blind Tom a bone
  From the times of King Cotton
  May we present to you
  All you Jim Crow monkeys
  From Harlan County down to Tuscaloo
  Pay me anything you like
  Ill pay it back to you
  Be careful what you call me though
  Some things cut clear on through
  I may be an idiot
  I may be a savant
  I didnt choose this life for me
  But its something that I want
  Cocks that old big head aside
  Grunts a word or two
  Keeps them guessing every night
  Is he really going to make it through
  Faint hearts with their fans out
  Starched collars and cigars
  He werent no use for slaving
  I wouldnt want him in my yard