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listen to the blues grow
city slicked, full of tricks
and fits of selfish whimsy
artful dodge. hey man,
this town used to make him feel so large
lately she's holding him prisoner to the thinnest of possibilities
it's a sinful waste of hours listening to your own horn blow
it eats into the time it takes to tend the seeds you sow
leaves you no time at all to listen to the blues grow
picture me. picture los angeles.
picture meal‑time at the hog‑trough
with the swine committee
i admit, i confess. i betrayed my jesusness
self‑serving seeds blossomed into weeds
and reaped a harvest of woe
and woe is me in my duplicity, i dignified the judas goat
mired in my affliction I refused to listen to the blues grow
i flutter like a leaf against the winds of what i fear
like right here, right now
with calloused hands and a six‑string plow
i work that spirit for you now
to enact the metaphor of listening to the blues grow
just for grins, just for the experience
imagine yourself as more than individual
and the things that you love
be brave enough to share with the least of us
the use of the world is to make soul
because it's a sinful waste of hours
listening to your own horn blow ... |