Cracked voice
Almost spoken song
Rusted harmonica
Behind a rhythm trips along
Dips and sways
Like a fumbling drunkard
Losing his place
Losing his place
I'm on a lonely ride with nowhere to go
Oooooh a lonely ride with nowhere to go
They say these blues won't last
But who's to know
His harmonica dips and sways again
Becomes the low note of a train
Far away
Going farther away
From a tattered man
Drenched in rain
Walking for miles
Walking for miles
I've been out of luck on a boxcar train
Lost a lot of luck on a boxcar train
You know I should jump off
But it's gonna rain
The harmonica imitates the singer's madness
Plays cracked-master noises
Mocks them with a sister voice
Drowning them in violent sadness
Picking the rhythm then moving faster
Waving goodbye
Waving goodbye
Gonna throw myself in the deepest sea
Yeh go and throw myself in the bluest sea
Cause I love my sister
But she don't love me
Now the harmonica tears through empty air
Like solitary light thrown off a motorcycle
Ripping through night
No slipping now
Faster faster faster
A running mad dog
Hungry moan
Hungry moan
I'm on a lonely ride nowhere to go
Oh lonely ride nowhere to go
They say the blues ain't fast
But I can't go slow
J W Cooper
December 1986
Copyright ©
John W. Cooper