Bottleneck Blues

The morning sun rises, and sets in turn

While the smoke rings still spiral and the paper still burns

I’m dreaming a while of when the levee broke

And scrounging a bottle, a guitar, a smoke

Watered down whiskey is like fading desire

I’d say I’m okay, but it’ll make me a liar

We’ve been screaming for years, been a while since we spoke

I’ll lean on a bottle, a guitar, a smoke

I’m strung up and crazy and speaking in tongues

And childish and stuck up and forever young

And doped up and washed up and worthless and broke

Sold it all for a bottle, a guitar, a smoke

I sing myself hoarse just to drown out the sound

Oh please don’t come looking, I won’t be around

I’ll seamlessly blend in with those gentle folk

Who live on a bottle, a guitar, a smoke

I’m thumbing my way to the next nameless town

To the next faceless lady who won’t turn me down

Our hands intertwined, the fires we’ll stoke

Then cry, sharing a bottle, a guitar, a smoke

I live life in tatters, I’m dressed up in rags

Keep singing my anthems and waving my flags

While I keep reliving the same sorry joke

‘bout the man with a bottle, a guitar, a smoke.