Wailing the blues.
I’m remembering those days
That I’d be up there on that stage
Blowing a storm on the old blues harp
Oh man, I used to rage!
Most said that I was very good
And I loved that ego boost
So I would wail those blues notes out
All hanging kind of loose.
Folk would come and buy me drinks
And shake me by the hand
And I would smoke the evil weed
And feeling kind of grand
I’d get all kind of soulful then
And forget just where I was
My eyes all closed my body swaying
Like a man completely lost.
Once I opened up my eyes
And folk were standing there
All their dancing stopped by me
As people everywhere
We’re captivated by my harp
Entrancement on their dials
The music doing what it does best
It was joy to see those smiles.
That was in the days long gone
When I really loved me grog
I guess I’m kind of mellowed now
I’m as active as a log
But I love the many memories
Of the times I played those songs
All loud and loose and free, and grand
And pleased the blessed throng.