In the smoky room where the lost hearts play,
I sip my drink, let the night drift away.
The moonlight dances through the broken glass,
While the delta wind whispers stories of the past.
With a rusty soul and a broken rhythm,
I weave my blues with a touch of an enigma.
The clock keeps ticking, but time will not mend,
This lonely heart, searching for a friend.
Midnight rain falls, tapping on the ground,
Like the tears of a lover, making not a sound.
I hear the jazz shadows calling me near,
Their haunting melodies echoing my fear.
Each drop tells a tale of joy and despair,
Of dreams left behind, like whispers in the air.
I raise my glass to the ones who have gone,
In this whiskey story, they linger on.
So I pour another round, let the music flow,
While the city sleeps, I’ll let my sorrow show.
The band plays soft, strumming a tune,
As I drown my regrets under the watchful moon.
But somewhere deep in this smoky dive,
I find the strength to keep the blues alive.
With a rusty soul, I will sing my song,
Through the midnight rain, I know I belong.
So here's to the shadows, the whiskey, the pain,
To the rhythm that lives in the memories’ strain.
Though the night is lonely, I'll stand my ground,
In the jazz shadows, my heart's still found.
Blues
Jazz shadows, Whiskey story, Midnight rain, Rusty soul, Broken rhythm, Lonely heart, Delta wind