American Soul
Lights across the river
Blues from dens rich with pain
Pleasure numbs the lonely hearts
Searching for that refined door
Tenured in melodic Muddy Waters
Miles Davis on a trumpet of silk
Billy Holiday makes you want to cry
Cross that bridge where notes bend
Where church bells still ring
Southern hospitality on a slide guitar
Barbecues, lace, sweat, desire
Dreams as deep as forlorn immigrants
Chicago blues like working class dreams
Welcome to the belated souls
Welcome outsiders on a edge
Pound on your drums, your congas
Play those old Stratocaster Guitars
Play those fender and Gibson amps
Tonight we hear the American soul
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Related quotes
There's no way in the world I can feel the same blues the way I used to. When I play in Chicago, I'm playing up-to-date, not the blues I was born with. People should hear the pure blues - the blues we used to have when we had no money.
quote by Muddy Waters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blues Line
Hear blues arrived from Southern starlight,
like musical blackbirds in flight.
Originally with negro spiritual flow,
underlined with the hard blues glow.
Moving across mason dixie line,
discovering Chicago rhythm and rhyme.
Where going electric was the thing,
man did you hear the sounds ring.
The howling wolf amongst others,
Muddy Waters, BB-King were brothers.
Creating chess musical legends anew,
whose fiery blues sound rang true.
Across the Atlantic ocean way,
the Chicago blues found a new day.
A new British scene was born,
another blues voice found form.
Blues stars like the great John Mayall,
created a new sound to set sail.
The Yardbirds and The Cream,
set fire to the blues guitar dream.
Blues music lets us feel,
allowed us to often heal.
Gives rise to higher emotion,
lets us share some sweet devotion.
2012 has blues musicians anew,
sons and daughters take musical cue.
Play those twelve bar song blues,
man have you heard the news.
The blues sound remains forever,
blues cats will forsake never.
As long as sunlight shall shine,
rhythm song beat shall rhyme.
poem by Wayne Falconer
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Are You Troubled
Are you troubled, are you lonesome
Do you cry when you are alone
Then come with me to lonely street
Where everyone feels the same
They play the blues down there
And cry in their beer
No one hits one on the shoulder
And says hello
You're all alone on lonely street
No one looks you in the eye
Troubles stay locked inside
As they bloody well should
Come on down, hear the trumpet
And hear the lonely lady sing
About the way her man did her
And you think, he did me the same
Let the sax play loud and lonely
Let the drums drift thru your mind
And that piano in the corner
Fill your soul with pain
Are you troubled, come with me
I'll show you the way there
And I'll cry your tears with you
As we drink our beer
But I won't tell you why I'm troubled
Or what I feel in my soul
Cause then you couldn't hear the sad sounds
That fill the room with blues.
It's getting a little crowded
But thats ok too
There's a lot of us fools like us
That are sad and lonely and blue.
Written by Jo Carey
Blue Notes
All you players
who play the blues
play, play
play the sad news.
The minor chords
will take you down low.
Let the sax wail
and the trumpet blow.
Listen and lament with
that licorice stick,
all you lovers
sad and heartsick.
Let it all out boys.
Play, play, play.
Those tearful lovers
hear what you say.
They hear those blues
and they feel it too.
It will let their tears fall
like no other notes can do.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Gibson Guitar
As I play the blues
on my Gibson guitar
it takes me back
to those train track blues
The heart and soul
of Slash and his crew
Les Paul and Gibson
the true train track blues
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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In The Words Of Bluesman Jack
From bar to bar
I play my life story
to the crowd
I play for the people
I play for my sanity
I've played
for forty years on the road
with nothing but the blues
I've lived a full life
but a lonely life
The hearts I have taken
The hearts I have broken
It all comes together
in the blues songs of salvation
with the pain and the hate
of a world in despair
From bar to bar
I play my life story
to the crowd
I play them the blues
the blues of salvation
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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Blues, The Mississippi Way!
Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson,
Fats Waller, a'sweatin' at his piano,
Bo! You know Bo?
You don't know Diddley without Bo!
W. C. Handy, in a park in Memphis,
Frozen forever in stone, Trumpet in hand,
Eyes fixed on that Mighty, Muddy
Mississippi River, frozen for all time...
Soft, undulating hips swaying to the
Moaning, anguished notes of a horn,
Black eyes smiling at my tormented longing,
Teasing me with a smile and a glance
Over tender shoulders...
That River, awash on the banks,
Over the banks, bringing in black mud,
Rich, alive, flowing ever southward,
Flowing to its Delta home,
Teeming black dirt, pure white cotton,
Red hot jazz, and Blues...done right...
Souls, crying in the dark nights,
Lost, alone, hurting, forever in pain,
Longing... Begging...
Calling from the Riverboats,
From the shotgun shanties,
And the cotton fields,
From the bars and the juke joints,
Sweet notes, and blue,
Pouring into that soft, warm southern night...
From downtown Main Street to Natchez Under The Hill,
From downtown banks to the riverbanks,
From downtown mansions to the riverbank shanties,
From downtown highroads to the riverbank byways,
From downtown birthplaces of the rich and famous
To the riverbank birthplace of the music of a nation,
The blues will take you in, and tell of your heart's pain,
Or comfort you, like a motherless child...
Hearing the cries of the hurtin', hungry children,
Or the late night wail of the Midnight Flyer train,
Right on time, not stopping, passing through,
Leaving home, and wife, family and babies,
Going away...far, far away...
That train, dragging her cars behind her,
Northward, maybe to Detroit city,
Or Chicago...always away,
For the high cost of $16.95, you can leave,
But there might always be
The sound in your heart
Of Jimmie Rogers, the Singing Brakeman,
Wailing 'Mississippi Moon, '
The blues, oozing out of our hearts and souls,
Soaking into that rich, black Mississippi soil.
Linda Treat
March 11,2009
Copyrighted
poem by Scarlett Treat
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Ring Them Bells
Ring them bells yea heathen from the city that dreams
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries cross the valleys and streams
For they're deep and they're wide
And the world's on it's side
And time is running backwards and so is the bride
Ring them bells
Ring them bells
Ring them bells
Ring them bells!
Ring them bells Saint Peter where the four winds blow
Ring them bells with an iron hand so the people will know
That the rush hour is now on the wheel and the plow and the sun is going down upon the sacred cow
Ring them bells
Ring them bells
Ring them bells
Ring them bells
Ring them bells Saint Martha for the poor man's son
Ring them bells so the world will know that God is one
For the shepherd is asleep where the willows weep
And the mountains are filled with little lost sheep
Ring them bells for the blind and the deaf
Ring them bells for all of us who are left
Ring them bells for the chosen few who would judge the many when the game is through
Ring them bells for the time that flies
song performed by by Heart from Desire Walks On
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blues Come Around
Once I was happy as I could be but I let a gal make a fool of me
And ever since she let me down the blues come around when the sun comes down
Oh the blues come around oh the blues come around
Lard the blues come around every evenin' when the sun goes down
[ guitar ]
As the sun is in the sky those doggone blues never make me cry
But ever since she left this town the blues come around when the sun goes down
Oh the blues come around...
[ fiddle ]
I've built my castle very high and then she went and said goodbye
Ever since she poured 'em down the blues come around when the sun goes down
Oh the blues come around...
[ steel ]
Once she called me all her own but now she's gone and I'm alone
And every evenin' I'm sorrow bound
Cause the blues come around when the sun goes down
Oh the blues come around...
[ guitar ]
Oh the blues come around...
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Boy Blues
Fireflies in dogfights
Runnin hot in the heat
Street noise, another bribe
Things too hard to believe--so head out
My hearts in the country
My feets in the city with you
All my friends are eatin sushi
Talkin bad about you know who-who-who
My tongues talkin riddles
But I just cant seem to find a clue
So I take a swig of whiskey
And jump into the saddle with you-you-you
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Cats in the alley
Rats in my snakeskin boots
All my neighbors think Im crazy
And my girl thinks Im losin my cool-cool-cool
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Dont look to jesus to change your seasons
Its the american dream
Souls of gypsies, road of stone
Cant seem to find no peace--so head out
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues, got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eulogy of a Blues Master
No music,
not reggae, not punk and certainly not rap,
is more hip, more with it,
than the blues
And no blues musician
was more profound
than John Lee Hooker
Born long, long ago
way down in the state
of Mississippi
He grew up poor
on the Big Muddy
on the delta
amongst other poor negros
amongst poor white folks
amongst segregation, amongst racism
amongst hatred
But he and his guitar
would rise above
to play the rhythm
of an oppressed people
And brother, could he jam!
He dug
Big Legs, Tight Skirts
He drank
One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer
He'd
Boom Boom, Greg Corso music
all night long
And as for his
guitar pickin', huh
He was the Hendrix of the blues
Ain't nobody better'n Johnny Lee!
The King of the Blues!
And even though maybe
you can't hear it,
Somewhere,
Somewhere,
John Lee is still playin' that boogie
poem by Paul the Lion
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Old Ramshackled Bar
In gondola
On waterway
I traded blues and greens
Today.
And other sunlit colour schemes,
For hidden serenade.
A jazz piano played.
Where notes escaped
Like happy dreams.
From old ramshackled bar.
To burn
And crackle far.
Then quickly die
In twilight creams
Of cooling sunset sky.
A gondolier
On waterway
Took me and my guitar.
To play the blues of 'Frisco bay.
And rock
The old ramshackled bar.
To solve the clues
Of love's dismay.
The songs of pain
Would float away.
And douse
The nearest star.
In gondola
On waterway
I awoke from my reverie
Today.
My lover laying next to me.
Sunlight playing
Through her hair
Like music from a harp.
The day as clear
As bluest eyes so fair
And oh so sharp.
Under lazy Venetian skies.
It was then
That I would realise.
All the notes
The night had cast
Were merely ghosts
Of heartaches past.
Like the old ramshackled bar
- Long gone.
Just leaving a broken guitar
To play in the wind.
Where the moon
Once shone.
From afar.
poem by Kevin East
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Payola Blues
This ones for you al freed,
Wherever you go, whatever you do
cause the things theyre doing today
Will make a saint out of you
Payola blues.
Ive got the payola blues
Even though I already paid my dues.
Listen to me mr. d.j., hear what Ive got to say
If a man is making music, they ought to let his record play.
Payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
Well, heres three thousand, that ought to get it on.
Well, thanks a lot man! I love your new song.
Payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
And it goes like this.
I got a brand new record company, new manager too.
Got a great new record, I cant get through to you.
Payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
How about this new mercedes benz, that ought to get it on.
Well, thanks a lot man! Ill play it all day long.
Payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
Ive got the payola blues, payola blues
Im paying those payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicago Blues
Maurice white, jon lind, nicky brown & brock walsh
Booker t's at the front door
Saying it's time to go
Coltrane's at the mother blues tonight
63rd to southshore
We're cruising in the dyna-flo
Ain't no way they let us play, but then
They might
Fourteen years not a one day more, yeah
Struttin' my stuff up and down the floor
Haven't you heard this groove before?
Chorus 1:
Ba da bop ba dee-ah ba dee-ah
Ba da bop bop ba do-ah do-ay
I'll never lose chicago blues
Ba da bop bop ba do-ah do-ay
We tried to be cool, yeah
Flat tops up stove-pipes down
Finding out the good stuff
You never gonna learn in school
Comes easy in this part of town
I brought my sticks, we're sittin' in, all night
Better be quick, gotta hold on tight
It's gonna be a real jam down delight
Chorus 2:
Ba da bop ba dee-ah ba dee-ah
Ba da bop bop ba do-ah do-ay
I'll never lose chicago blues
Send that drummer home and
Let me play (repeat)
Ba da bop ba dee-ah ba dee-ah
Ba da bop bop ba do-ah do-ay
Ee-yay ee-yeay ee-yay ee-yay
Ba da bop bop ba do-ah do-ay
Ba dee-ah ba dee-ah
Ee-yay ee-yeay ee-yay ee-yay
Ba da bop bop ba do-ah do-ay
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blues
The blues of my life
play through my mind
as I strum my guitar
to the beat of my heart
The notes are the years
the strings are the falls
the songs are the faces
the tears are the places
We've seen it all
these blues and me
poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Surrender
We busted out of class had to get away from those fools
We learned more from a three-minute record than we ever learned in school
Tonight I heart the neighborhood drummer sound
I can feel my heart begin to pound
You say youre tired and you just want to close your eyes and follow your dreams down
We made a promise we swore wed always remember
No retreat, believe me, no surrender
Like soldiers in the winters night with a vow to defend
No retreat, believe me, no surrender
Now young faces grow sad and old and hearts of fire grow cold
We swore blood brothers against the wind
Im ready to grow young again
And hear your sisters voice calling us home across the open yards
Believin we could cut someplace of our own
With these drums and these guitars
We made a promise we swore wed always remember
No retreat, believe me, no surrender
Blood brothers in the stormy night with a vow to defend
No retreat, believe me, no surrender
Now on the street tonight the lights grow dim
The walls of my room are closing in
But its good to see your smiling face and to hear your voice again
We could sleep in the twilight by the river side
With a wide open country in our hearts
And these romanics dreams in our heads
We made a promise...
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicago Samba
I live in chicago
A very windy city
But tonight I will dance the Chicago samba
Once again
But when I dance the chicago blues
I sweat like crazy
And I feel like a kid again
But when I hear the chicago samba being played by the local musiciams
In the streets of chicago I get very excited
Because I know that their music cam be heard also from faraway
And bring me back memories of home
poem by Aldo Kraas
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I Can Play (Lyrics) :
He didn't give himself up to fear.
And his voice had a life of its own.
He didn't give himself up for broke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar', 'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to drinking beer.
His voice still had a life of its own.
And he didn't give himself up for smoke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to curcumstance.
Always tried to make it alone.
He didn't give himself up to telling lies.
His honesty was already shown.
Always kept himself up to par.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'...
Rock Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1987,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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My Sad Guitar (In Iraq)
When I play...my sad guitar,
With powered chords...of deep emotion.
I strum the strings...with such devotion,
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
In a bunker, built in the sand.
This war torn country, this desert land,
I miss playing...In a rock and roll band.
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
My memories play,
Deep in my mind,
I try to find-
Our... wedding... day!
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
I think of my Harley...My hot-rod car,
Wishing I was home,
With a beer in a bar.
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
poem by Philip Lore
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Thirty Two
I see, you see, well get a guitar,
Yeah, well get a guitar
And, oh, well get, well get three guitars,
No!, no!!, well get four guitars
And well get herbie lovelle to play drums,
And well do, the
Sha-la, sha...
Well do the sha-, sha-la bit.
Sha-la, sha-, sha-la, sha-la, well do it,
Well get together, uunghh, well get
Uunghh, ttcchh, uugnhh-uunghh-uunghh, like that,
And well do the sha-la bit and then,
Then, then, and well get, well get sixteen guitars,
And then, then well play it,
And then well do that one, yeah.
Let me hear ya do that again.
Over and over, bert berns song, over...
[clack, clack-clack, clack]
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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