Next stop: Haymarket
Doors will open on the left
» subway tunnel breeze «

There's more that meets the eyes
And this will never change
It's too complicated to explain why
The answer will never be the same
Just remember to hold us when we cry
And beware those moments we act insane
Sometimes a firm, warm place to land
Is the only thing to soothe our weary brain
Were difficult at best, impossible at worst
But true love is always on our mind first
Some women want the finer things in life
Some just want children and to be a good wife
Others need to be held and reassured constantly
Some just want to trust and receive honesty
No matter the woman, you'll never understand us all
But keep in mind... There's no greater feeling than the fall

So old and yellowed
The Bible my father owned
I read it by candlelight.

-M.H.-

The world outside is full of light,
there is no fear, no hate, no night,
love and life are free to all,
no one can hear the darkness call,

The world outside is colder now,
I feel the fear, the hateful row,
love is scarce, so very rare,
I hear the darkness, feel it's snare,

The world outside grows darker still,
I'm losing hope, I’ve no free will,
the darkness grows ever stronger,
I wonder if I’ll last much longer,

The world outside is black and cold,
my very soul feels weak and old,
I gaze into the shadowed lake,
my eyes, my hands, seem somehow fake,

The world outside has but one light,
one tiny glimmer through the blight,
a fire burning deep within,
I feel it's warmth throughout my skin,

The world outside is brighter now,
I see it glow, I hear it's vow,
I hear no darkness, feel no fear,
in happiness I shed a tear,

The world outside is full of light,
there is no fear, nor endless night,
my heart and soul feel full of life,
for now, you see, you are my wife.

It bloomed like a bruise,
all the pain, hate built up,
but soon enough the colors sprouted out
and burst with
blues and greens and yellows and purples
and then slowly faded away...

Down in the Hills of the
Mississippi River Valley
Between the Bluffs and
The river bank in Lansing
Is a Friend named Joe Price,

Born to Play the Blue's
Raised on Farming as a Boy,
Yet was a need he could not lose
He listened to Muddy Waters
And ran out to buy a Guitar

An old 1947 12 String National
Resonator with the Steel Core
He rapped his fingers around
Till his blues skills got honed

He was Destined to play with
Legends like John Lee ******
Willie Dixon and Clifton Chenier
Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee
Along with Muddy Waters and Me

I know I'm no legend but I can't Refuse
When Joe ask me to Sit in on a Knee Slappin'
Hand Clappin version of the Hobo Blues
His work boot stomped a beat
On an old flat piece of wood
As that steel Slide made that Guitar Cry

A Legend behind the Scenes he's
Played from the North down to
The Louisiana Back Bayous
And everything in Between

You'll Never Know that feeling
As the Hair stands on your Neck
This hardly known old Hobo
Was a Legend what the Heck

Till you get a chance to listen
To his Train whistle slide Moan
That 12 string Steel Guitar Tone
That sounds so very Nice
From an Unknown Legend
Name of Joe Price

*His Music can be found on http://www.joepriceblue.com/

"You're a 10, baby," I say to my burnt fingers.