Rosa stole this song. She said she could sing it better than me, and I suppose she was right.

This song couldn't possibly be more autobiographical. My town, Castle Shannon, consisted of a main street (Willow Avenue) of bars and barber shops. You had better like drinking beer and getting your hair cut, or there's no reason to go to Castle Shannon.

Every character and scenario in the song is real, all except for the part about cabstands. There are no cabstands in Castle Shannon, just trolley stops.

Lyrics

SIX OR SEVEN BLOCKS

So it's late to be walking alone
Nothing's changed around here, but it's home
I never gave much thought to live anywhere else
and I've been pretty lucky when it comes to taking care of myself

Bad things come when you're hanging around Sharon Jones
Her mother don't care who she's with or when she comes home
She runs around all night with full grown men
And my mother's going crazy 'cause my sister wants to be like them.

In six or seven blocks
of bars and barber shops
side streets and cul de sacs
one-ways and dead ends
Where streets are lined with chalk
for kickball and hopscotch
in six or seven blocks
my world begins and ends

My little brother won't listen to sense
running to me is his only defense
Who said I'd fight your battles for you?
And if I ever get out of this dump, what then will you do?
Something's not right with that kid, kinda queer.
He's a little flamboyant for the people 'round here.
Everybody's jealous 'cause he's always surrounded by girls
and if the boys ever catch him alone, he'll lose more than his curls.

In six or seven blocks
of pavement and sidewalks
Two sheep for every fox
The worst of whom are friends
At cabstands and bus stops
chain links and double-locks
In six of seven blocks
my world begins and ends.