THE BLUES

I kick back on my bed and listen to Muddy Waters. His wife done left him and he don't give a damn. I should be playing lead, blowing on a harp and captivating the crowd with my original licks. Doubling up on the Xanax with a glass of water at my side, I might impress a plain but clean babe. We would ravish each other until the winds starting blowing this wayward soul down the road.

I'm leaving and I'm not sure when I'm coming home. I'm leaving and I'm not sure when I'm coming home. But when I do you better be near a phone.

I'm heading down the line and I don't know when I'll be back. I'm heading down the line and I don't know when I'll be back. I'm a gypsy following that railroad track.