“Good morning blues, blues how do you do?”
Blues got in this morning by bus—hung out formerly in archetypal paradise.
I’m doin’ alright, good morning, how are you?
Man says:
“Well I lay down last night, turnin’ from side to side…”
Blues says:
“Ding Dong. Here’s your coffin. Shall I leave it here on the porch?”
Sometimes you have to pull a hair or two, just to get your mind back.
Sometimes you need the self sufficient vigor of a Russian choir.
I mean, you need to be a one man choir.
Its all Rachmaninoff baby.
God never made no creatures without reason—I mean creatures, having no reason, who knows what God’s got going on?
Every one of my efforts to say something real goes the same way. But I got Rachmaninoff. Go on, bluesy sisters and brothers, click here:
http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9mVKdE9ZEVE
Planet of the Blind 