In the quiet of the night, where the shadows softly groan,
With worn strings on this old guitar, I play a lonesome tone.
The fading whispers call my name, in echoes soft and low,
As a restless heart keeps wandering, where the weary river flows.
The somber rain is falling down, like teardrops on my skin,
While the midnight glow wraps round my soul, bringing back what’s been.
Those blues that shadow every dream, whisper stories left untold,
In a world of hollow ache and time, where the past is cold and bold.
Now the jukebox hums a weary tune, plays the rhythm of my pain,
Every note a memory released, in the heart of the pouring rain.
With blues that swirl like cigarette smoke, dancing in the air,
I find solace in the aching sound, a melody so rare.
But when the dawn begins to break, and the shadows fade away,
I’ll carry hope beneath my skin, though the blues may still hold sway.
In the quiet of the morning light, I’ll put my burdens down,
Let the worn strings guide my way, in a soft and vibrant sound.
As the day unfolds its weary hands, and the past begins to cease,
I’ll find beauty in the silent moments, and a bittersweet release.
So here’s to all the shadowed blues that led me through the night,
With a restless heart now learning peace, in the dawn's forgiving light.
Blues
Worn strings, fading whispers, shadowed blues, restless heart, midnight glow, hollow ache, somber rain