Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I swear that engineer on the that west bound freight train is some old blues man playing that locomotive horn it comes so fast it lingers for a while and then the melody fades
and I can't get to hear it again till the next train comes balling down the tracks.

gotta get it while ya can
gotta listen to the music when
you got them metaphysical homelessness blues again

on a clear day
i can hear a chorus of dylans
all his voices
chiming away an old train style chord
a big fat world full of dylans
rollin down the steel-eyed track

so left to the blues we sing that in lieu
of which
we cannot know how blue is blue too

those bending notes or that devil with a blue dress on

or that famous meeting with Robert Johnson where the roads dance in the wind blown night with a big ole black bird sitting on the top of the tree, sayin what he means

caw caw caw, can't you hear me sqwak into bird talk

we prefer blue birds though we have recourse to the blues

gotta tell it like it is gotta spread the good and evil news

prayin to the gold in the smokestack lightning

can't you hera me cryin, can't you hear the call to prayer

ask who goes there, when i say who dare, and when say who dat who say who dat when i say who dat..?

blue rats an blue cats and black ones too, blue Blind

Lemon....and blue apples...woo blueberry hill

and the sweet contemplate spirits of Marie Laveau...

who say hoodoo when i say voodoo, say high john the conqueroo, gotta shoot at the blue moon, gotta rattle snake at the sun, gotta toot at the boot till its all done

that the dyin in the east west blues as the star in the east

pours its soft light through the dark western door

can't you see venus close kiss to the fingernail moon with a wild rootin hole shot plum through

a whole lot of love come shining through that magic mirror

oh, blues you got me by the throat got me strummin

on the madhouse walls got me shoutin at the Jung's shadow, got me nostalgic for Picasso's period of blue..

got me lookin for a blue rose in Freud 's dream lapel

some kinda material dream death wish wash lost on

us too blue to see beyond true blue bliss sky only one

oh, going down into that unconscious underground

real slow, slow mo, like that slow bo to China

oh blue, oh Kafka blue, or can we say Dove gray

and compare the blues to Rhapsody in Blue or

Blue Boy to Blue girl, or mood indigo i dig time to go

there is a kind of gypsy blue that looks almost red

as red as Lorca's blood when his lips turned pale

oh well, oh well, oh well...

when the midnight lace veil draws back from the void

blue stone blue's scale playin down the fret with a slide

and a cobalt bottle neck ride makes that thunder and rollin

all night long sound,



got me banging on the pots and pan, got meditating

on the nuts and bolts outta the blueblue

when are we gonna bring back the purple grains

to these blighted lands gonna sing and cry and chant

till the hard rain rains rains gotta fall hear my plee

my peel on the heel down at shoes where the colored

dice roll no God playin with them collapsing civilizations

only a king snake gonna crawl when the levee breaks

and the muddy waters draw down the flood on the

streets, and streets become snakin rivers of 7, 11's

and Box car Joe know when the saints come marchin in

down at the river where suzanne took you down

a mighty coyote blues call a yelp yelp yelp and a talkin

blues layin down the tracks, puttin down the rant

gotta manifest that blue grace in the face of oceans

of blue Buddhas and that blue angel of our better

blues..."fallin love again...can't help it"

down among the holy garbage and the fallen angel flowers

Hirschberger
The St. Louis Blues (54" x 36")



Blue suede shoes
St Louie Blues
Sailing to my doom
All is well
Who dat standing before my grave.
Mourning becomes Electra
But Oedipus wrecks.