It all comes back in many shades of blue…
the best ones cut the moon in…
sucker punch blues hit hard and run….
not weeks before they hit again…
we pick a seat, look round…
find the next slot and fill in the blanks…
next in line, next in line…
pick up another and turn it again….
… It’s on those nights in black and red…
they all spin one way ….
through my head…
play it again – with soul..
…but the blues have run and left us dead…
limping, gutted…
nothing but the sky to take it.
And on a still night,
all is lost…
not till you hear it…
heavy on your drum another drink of real…
another one too far.
