Few people stand around some sit sound asleep.. murmured voices blend while I play a song to keep.. see woman her husband getting on a train.. wears a uniform says she cannot share his pain..
Still I see she misses him.. as he will soon miss her.. missed when senses something to make passion stir.. some say tempt a lonely one.. some say it is fate.. some will say it came in a ‘genetic estate’ either way manic laughter drinks as tears come hard.. relief is not freedom.. love is not a guard..
Guitar knows stations many where we played the blues.. love to blues we know each other well.. play the thump and rumble of train wheels on the tracks.. nature woman floats playing a bell..
On the other side two guys lean against a wall.. they stop talking when I start to play.. parents watch as children quiet listen to the sound.. of love, music and games big folks do and say..
Music beats in my heart.. songs run through my brain.. times I lived happy.. time thought of insane.. melody springs love warm or sleds on snowy days.. validation station folks are part of why I play..
Guitar agrees with me okay.. see his truck is clean.. always ready with notes pretty in a bluesy scene.. harp ready reeds clear, waits.. I tune my chops.. playing what I see in life until the living stops..
When folks listen.. I settle down and play.. it is inspiration.. it is a good thing in life.. Peace Tony (I will be signing my whole name.. I changed when it used to ping back a lot of academy awards 🙂 )