on the 8th day...God made the songwriter
I HAVE TAXIED around
in helicopters and limousines, and pushed a grocery cart around under a bridge.
I'VE
SLEPT IN PALACES and dumpsters...walked a thousand roadside miles...kickin'
rocks with a hand full each of matching
luggage...two Kroger shopping bags.
IV'E
BEEN the esteemed musical guest of elite circles in Chateaus in France . I’ve
also been incarcerated in three foreign countries…including Memphis .
SOME
OF US ARE COWBOYS & CARPENTERS, some of us are chefs, artists, mothers,
programmers, doctors & musicians…but then, on the eighth day…God made the
songwriter.
WE ARE
the silent observers, the ponderers, the psalmists…the prophets…the tear
conjurers…the hailed, feared and noble soul warriors…the “poets”. We can fly
high…and we can get very, very sad.
BUT
THE great songs, you see…the GREAT ones live near the fire...too hot for most
Angels even…so close sometimes, the human messenger gets hurt doing his job...a
really lonesome messed up gig it is.... being born to eat the sins of the
common man, and
burp
them
up
in musical form.
burp
them
up
in musical form.
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