ah, yes, the blues. it's not about the drama, the 'slappin' and kissin'. it's not the whiskey - we always seem to sober up. or the fights, the breaks. 'beddin' the wrong woman', 'cheatin' on your friend'. at the end of day, it's the life we haven't lived. regrets, soft and lasting. this is not something that can be understood by intellect alone, only by the passage of time. on that note, today's work is about nothing. or everything.

ramblings, cause eternity's got an evil eye

scrambled eggs with hollandaise, might just make my day,
grinding bitter coffee beans gives some fullness to the morn,
old ma sun is unforgiving, been buying lotions from the

fancy corner store, and why are you wearing daddy's old
gray pants, i sold them just last week to the baptist deacon's
boy; giving funerals is tiresome work, or so he says,

singing hymns on thursday afternoons, going to confession
cause you've watched a life to live; can you understand
that i'll not go roving, can't understand the rules of this

sideways game, and you know i can't read music, where's
an opera with a country band, sparkley shoes will leave
me crazy, black and white is too severe, so let's look

at these old photos, kodak made a mean machine, captured
daddy with his women, debonair and full of flair, strangers
smiling in the sun, cooking steaks and drinking beer, and

please understand there are no highways leading where
i've got to go, markers with the miles in steel, exits from
the past, i'm needing potions with some power, need

to justify the lies; have you searched the pockets in those
pants, found a secret gone unused; can you loan me
fifty dollars, mow the grass just one more time, i've

an extra jug of vino, but don't drink it while you drive,
i may be here, when you return, thinking bout 1965