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Singing The Blues With Hank


From the grave he called me,
That lonely voice from afar
Sitting there in my head
As I sat there in life's bar

And me and Old Hank would
Together sing the blues
And  I would toss back
Copious amounts of booze

Then Old Hank would
Just quietly slip away
Leaving me to the hangover
At the start of each new day

And then my life changed
I was  made to stop and think
About the real futility of
A life almost devoted to drink.

I still think of him and those
Black Dog Days long gone,
But without Hank's music
I just couldn't have carried on

Nowadays when I drink it's just
Fruit juice and mixers instead
But me and old Hank together  
Still sing the blues in my head

I think somehow his life was
In someway linked to mine
But I continued to live while
He'd died at just twenty nine

A young boy when it happened
So we never ever could have met.
He sang with a  haunting beauty,
Simple words I can't forget.

From the grave he still calls me
An old and much loved friend
All my life he's been with me,
And still will be to its end.







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