Old Guitars and Beer Joints


traveling minstrels poor and underfed work the six strings on a old wooden stage

rickety piano and microphone with frazzled chords bends the notes of long lost rage

Gibson and Fender unpack their memories to supply the dance hall dreams

throat singers strain at notes that float magical stories from bottles of Jim Beam

finger pickers mimic Reverend Gary Davis and his trunks of blues and gin soaked tunes

sometimes on the weekends they play the harder stuff even in the afternoon

swaying on the sawdust to an old country song and under soft blue lights

makes life worth the living after a day in the oil fields getting tired

the beer and the whiskey, the songs and the tunes, always cheer you up

and  heals the soul and sometimes inspires some one who has given up

but other times a jealous soul sees something that causes a big blowup

fighting and cussing is part of the deal and the band knows just to duck

but the clapping and cheers make sure that down that old road there’s good luck

after it’s all over and time to go home the feeling is so good and whiskey’s done its job

knowing tomorrow’s a working day but down deep now there’s a new heart throb

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