over miles and mountains
wandering this way.
Or you can drown
in the temple fountains
pushed by those who pray.
Your beard will grow
you may lose control
of the smile on your face.
Or you can shave it clean
never fail routine
keep the dust off your feet. I'll sit on your doorstep
strumming my ballads and blues.
I'll busk through stories
married to my tunes.
while your children grin
and ask "is listening a sin?"
You say "son he doesn't know,
but he's lost control,
he's smoking and breathing in."
"Is this true?"
They are asking you.
"Is his soul lost to the dark?"
Cause in this man there's peace
though his face is creased
his eyes are like a kings. He's perched on a rooftop
Where he drinks to his ballads and blues.
Overlooking a city that's salty
he's amused.
You can live in the valley
in your own way be happy
but your chaining up a hound.
Get your head out the window
shut your eyes to the wind
though in your ears it whistles loud.
Stop time in the canyon
wander through castles and red land
let the river float your soul.
Volunteer the erosion
of lackluster emotion
melt the stones weighing your mind. You’ll feel the carving of centuries
none other than ballads and blues.
Dig your toes in the dirt and it’s doubtful
you can lose.
