I got off the bus At Eighteenth and Vine Everything in the window I wanted to be mine Beautiful shirts there, Suits, shoes and hats. But I couldn’t buy them No, I couldn’t do that.
I was the wrong color For Matlaw’s, He said. That place was for coloreds And rich pimps instead Not a tow-headed white boy What hasn’t got much sense. I went there that one time And, I haven’t been since.
But, oh I wanted that suit, With cranberry hat and shoes. Even though I had no place To ever wear it, I knew. But, I love that store there On eighteenth and Vine Even though I knew nothing In that store could be mine.
The bus went by there Every day I passed it by. To this day, I grieve And never understood why A Caucasian market Like I represented Might go there inside there And be soundly resented.
It wasn’t a good thing It’s just how it was then Before the civil rights thing Would finally begin. Yes, I never knew colors They way others did. But, what did I know? I was just a young kid.
But, oh I wanted that suit, With cranberry hat and shoes. Even though I had no place To ever wear it, I knew. But, I love that store there On eighteenth and Vine Even though I knew nothing In that store could be mine.