if you've been expecting a traditional 'blues' work, you've been kind in your disappointment. today we're making the transition from blues to . . . somewhere else. but some things come too soon in life. our little hero is ready for a place 'where a bedroom's just a bedroom, quiet in its sleep'. i can only hope no reader really understands why this is a dream. but on to

whisper me something

whisper me something, mister, you've been standing here
since dawn, must have seen old sister, walking with her cane,
must have heard a secret, that i could sell for silver dimes

your pockets should be full up, things you've captured in
the wind, baubles made for nightsome trysts, jewels from
mandalay, golden ash spread on the ground for a prince's

silken feet, i've a need for all these riches, as you surely
must have heard, you've watched me at my window,
sliding down the drain, running off to see the world, one block

at a time, but if you've seen me making darkly moves,
with the lads down 23rd, you've surely never said a word, to
daddy or his kin; did you know sweet jenny tried her song

in a wrongly key of g? whisper me something, mister,
you've some kindness left in store, i can bargain with
the best of them, make a trade to bring a smile, for

the day, it is a-coming, when the last block has been seen,
and i'm ready for the wider ways, where the sun sets
in the east, and a bedroom's just a bedroom, quiet

in its sleep, give me something, mister, i've gone tired
with all my moves, with all this sliding sideways, jumping
over cracks, counting stones along the driveway, whistle

something, mister, when you're ready for our trade, and
you'll end the day with no regrets, and i'll be on my way