He's got stories from another time 
If you read between the lines
You feel the Mississippi groovin' inside your head 

Hard to see through his absent mind 
When his voice starts to grunt & grind
He preaches his religion like a reverend all night long

In a lumberjack shirt, a cap on his head 
With only four fingers & a smokin' cigarette
He'll sting you with his blues from your head down to your feet
That's why I can only say: "hail to Mr. Maxwell Street!" 

Like his music, he won't change 
Headstrong & firm they'll both remain
Through a needle on a vinyl or when he gets on stage 

On a road worn guitar fightin' prejudice views 
No fame or fortune for the uncrowned king of the blues
Taunted by success, alone in defeat 
But I will always be there to say: "hail to Mr. Maxwell Street!" 

Now all your heroes have come & gone
You keep their legacy alive 
There's always time for one more song 
Crank up your amp & slide it loud

His records were my blues university	
He never taught one note, but shared his world with me
I learned on the road, playin' to his boogie beat 
That's why I will always say: "hail to Mr. Maxwell Street!"