On a cold damp
night in Memphis
as I staggered
thourgh it's tempest
in an icy rain from a gig
where I performed
for three drunks
and a prostitude
In a bar that so destitude
they paid me with a meal
before i faced the storm....
Cradling my Stratocaster
beneath my overcoat's
six fastener's
In my Goodwill
fashion statement
shabby and forlorn
looking for someplace i could
shelter and get warm
For you see
I'd been evivted
just like the
landlady predicted
and I'd left a room full of
things i'd never owned
writing songs hadn't
been that good to me
and my chase towards
earning royalties
left me in the streets
all drenched without a home
You won't know what
it's like having nothing
till nothing's all
you've ever owned
there are levels of broke
that descend straight into Hell
many talented song creators
ride fame's broken escators
from its heights back to
despairs depths all alone
it's a story that i'm
qualified to tell......
Soon I spotted a
warmly lit up door
under a neon sign that read,
"Past Time Studios."
"Welcome" all who
can carry a tune."
but when i stepped inside
the hairs on my neck rose
I should have turned and
left right then i suppose
but the man behind the counter
turned and said:
"I recognize you and
I've heard you play
you know you
sing quite nice
but I have to say
you were born way
past your time
but I'll remedy that."
"Just sign your name
on my dotted line
I'll give you 60 percent
and you'll do fine
let's head on back to
the studio I'll show
you where it's at."
Then we walked down
dim lit halls all hung
with the photos of stars
he'd made Number one
But I noticed that they'd
all died tragically...
There was Janis Joplin
plus Elvis The King
next to Mama Cass
and Kurt Cobain
Jim Croce and Buddy Holly
were framed there too
plus the Big Bopper
Freddie from queen
with Jimi Hendrix was
sitting in between
and then he said,
"You Know, The next one
hanging there might be you."
Then as we headed down
some endless stairs
towards a Huge, orange glow
in the depths down there
I turned and ran like
I'd just been set on Fire
and on my way back up
I had to squeeze
past Richard Pryor??
On that rainy
night in Memphis
as I staggered back
through its tempest
dodging Icy rain from
a place that sought my soul
In my Goodwill fashion statement
knowing a coffin might
have been its replacement
cause there's deeper
ways to wind up in a hole
yeah there's deeper ways
to wind up in a hole.
You won't know what
it's like having nothing
till nothing's all
you've ever owned
there are levels of broke
that descend straight into Hell
Many talented song creators
ride fame's broken escators
from its heights back to
despairs depths all alone
it's a story that i'm
qualified to tell......
Early music and lyrics
composed and played by-
Matthew F. Blowers III-©-2023
at: Art~Whimsically Yours Studio
phot Credit to-Uunsplash.com
