I got the blues in the midnight hour.
(with a nod to Guy Davis)
And there ain’t no cure for it.
The music on the radio is heartless.
How can it be so happy when I am like this?
I need something so lowdown and fucking dirty
it hurts my teeth, it feels like a kick to the nuts,
it feels like brass knuckles to the mouth.
Girl, I don’t know where you are.
In this whole wide city you wander somewhere,
I can hear your footsteps echo, I can see the light
of store fronts reflect off your face, I can smell your cigarette.
I got the man left home blues. I got the woman
chasing tail on Main Street blues.
The children are in bed, the dog’s put out,
the sun is creeping up, where are you girl?
I look out the window,
I keep the door unlocked.
I wait for the Taxi to pull up.
Wait for you to step out lip smeared, puffy,
red eyed, throw the cabbie a wad of bills,
weave the walk to the porch.
I’m waiting for you to see my bags packed,
waiting for you to see me leave.
I’ll leave you to wonder the empty nights,
to wander the dark silent rooms,
to keep vigil at the window,
I’ll leave you these sunrise blues.