I can’t tell you nothing except for what I’ve said
Shut down by exhaustion, just want to go to bed
No, I don’t expect to sleep, just beg to be excused
I don’t mean to dump on you, just need to sing the blues
I was from Orlando West, the good side of the town1
You lived in Mandelaville, I guess you’ve been around2
Working in the gold mine, over in the rand
Hanging in the Shabine, when time was on your hands3
Chorus:
It makes no difference if I’m wrong or if I’m right
I’ve got no self-defense, I’ve got no will to fight
If they are unable to see it through my eyes
I’ll plead my case to angels in the court of paradise
I’ll plead my case to angels in the court of paradise
Soweto in the summer heat, Soweto in the rain
Tin shack down in shantytown, down on Kliptown lane4
You could barely hide your smile, inflicting pointless pain
Sympathy is not your style, that much at least is plain
I can keep from crying by staring straight ahead
I can keep from dying by pretending that I’m dead
To all the tender feelings that I still have for you
Despite the double dealings that you have put me through
(Chorus)
It makes no difference now, except for when it does
All the things our love could be were never what it was
Starting from your pickup line until the last goodbye
None of it makes any sense, no point to even try
Now if I cop to self-defense, no jury would convict
If they have a notion of the pain that you inflict
If they are unable to see it through my eyes
I’ll plead my case to angels in the court of paradise
(Chorus)
Words by Robert Hunter
Music by Mickey Hart and Bob Weir
The places mentioned in this song are all in or near Soweto, the township near Johannesburg in South Africa. Orlando West is the suburb of Soweto where many of the leaders of the African National Congress live.
Was the site of a squatter camp, removed in 2002 by the city council.
Synonym for “bar.”
Where antiapartheid organizations signed the Freedom Charter in 1955 but also the site of squatter camps.
First performance by The Dead: June 18, 2003, at Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, Maryland.
According to Mickey Hart: “I wrote it with Hunter, and Bob wrote the bridge.”