Blistered Guitar Fingers and Broken Note Blues

by July 2, 2009 0 comments

(If you were meant to save him you would have)

Mississippi at midnight
How many times have they been through here?
How many long night rides to gigs?
Smoking cigarettes, giving each other advice
avoiding the cops
avoiding the KKK
Broken jaws heal so slowly
When all you want to do is blow
Mystics in their own right
comparing
ex-wives, ex-dealers, and groupies
whittling the miles away
bullets fired by warm hands
compelled to ricochet
town by town
dive by dive
Cadillac’s with wings
into an unknown night

Something soothing and melodic about passing through small towns
The mystery of voodoo promises whispering broken bone harmonies with foggy lips
The man driving has a sweetheart in Dallas and a wife in Wilsonville
This is the road
where he leaves it all behind
the guilt, the desire, and all the tragedy of life
Perpetuation, destination, free and nameless
With out any identity
if only for a few nights
he can become someone else on stage
he can be a god looking down
Bedroom eyes and wagging tails
Send praises up to him
glinting in the lights
of lust and admiration
But it’s just another demon
with a pretty face
Even if it does look like her
it’s not the real thing
She’ll never
leave Texas for him
Just like he’ll never
leave his wife
for her
But sometimes,
The planets get together
and are aligned just right
and those two artists
become more than their separate lives
They become more than
sinners sneaking around behind god’s back
They meet at midnight
They meet like teenagers
Foreheads meet and inner-eyes kiss
Fog on the windows
Violins and guitars sing
A train keeps the rhythm
and the only witness
is some nameless and forgotten gravel road
just outside Montgomery
He begs for her words
Lyrics from a silver moon tongue
She knows those songs
are the only children
they will ever have together
He knows that their music
lives and breathes
Pick’n-and-a-Grin’n
the only life worth living
So he keeps on driving

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