My blues, haunting sounds I take out on my acoustic guitar.
Spiced up melodies, finger picking out my blues my way.
Those bends, holding down a string, subtle scooping of a note,
Hitting the sweet spot on those bends, oh those bends I play.
The blues I feel deep within my bones, freeing my soul way down.
The licks mean something when they come out of my guitar.
Picking is my way to release my pain, developing my own tone.
When they come out, the only soul I have to play with is my own.
My face says it all, soulfulness, sorrow, love and the getting hurt.
Sounds of my blues come from within, deep within my heart.
Singing all the sadness,and pain, the disappointments of my life.
The experiences made me who I am. You can hear it in my voice.
I have to go deep down to the depths of my soul where sun shines,
And muck is stored deep within my gut. A sad lonely place, blues.
Expressing with music releases all my pains that needs to come out.
My face says it all, a soulful bluesy release valve, creating calm within.
For Becca Lucas's contest, "Chasing The Blues Away"