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This is a life / He never would have thought possible / If he had stayed / Where he was before
Theres a man who lives on a island
His eyes are as blue as the sky
His skin is as brown as the berry that falls
When autumn leaves blow by
His wavy hair is streaked with silver
Like surf curls under moonlight
His smiles so sweet
It could turn up the heat
On the chilliest foggiest nightHe runs an inn by the water
Where mainland tourists stay
He bakes fresh bread every morning at 5
And says “its a wonderful day”
He walks the beach at sunrise
Starts making beds at 10
Counts his blessings every night
Tomorrow hed do it all againThis is a life
He never would have thought possible
If he had stayed
Where he was before
But life is short
He refused to be miserable
So he packed his bags
Waved goodbye
Then he closed that doorHis friends back home were startled
And sadly shook their heads
“Chalk it up to a mid-life crisis”
They knowingly said
But as days turned into weeks and months
And he did not return
They took a harder look at their own lives
And lessons never learnedThis is a life
He never would have thought possible
If he had stayed
Where he was before
But lifes too short
He refused to be miserable
So he packed his bags
Waved goodbye
Then he closed that doorHe is well aware of those
Who want to see him fall
But they are outnumbered by those
Who want him to stand tall
The road that he is traveling
Is one that more of us would choose
If we weren’t so afraid of
What in life we just might loseThere will be times the doubts will roll in
The blue will turn to gray
Old habits are so hard to break
If inertia gets its way
Listen to your own heart
Follow where it leads
Time to pull up old roots
Scatter new seeds
Has it really come to this?
Leadbelly’s in the background
Being drowned out by the grind
He’s singing about “Rock Island Line”
Nobody seems to pay him any mind
Bestsellers and bookshelves
Full of self-help printed word
Some faint elegance is heard
Now was that Ellington or Bird?
Has it really come to this?
Can ignorance be bliss?
I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop
Jazz at the bookstore
And blues in the coffee shop
Jazz at the bookstore
And blues in the coffee shop
There’s a man standing at the crossroads
With a dark roast in his hand
Livin’ in white yuppy hand
Over by the milk and sugar stand
Have i really come for this
This cup of caffeinated bliss?
So we browse around
All over town
Sipping coffees that we can’t pronounce
And meanwhile in the blues cemetery
All the coffins commence to bounce
Leadbelly’s in the cold ground
Rolling over in his grave
The hard road where so many slaved
Is now so smooth and paved
Has it really come to this?
Can Ignorance be bliss?
I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop
Jazz at the bookstore
And blues in the coffee shop
Jazz at the bookstore
And blues in the coffee shop
Song Nominations Post Forum
One of these days — and it won’t be long — you’ll look for me, but baby: I’ll be gone
Posted in song.name
Tagged Black Crowes, jimmy page, led zeppelin, Your Time is Gonna Come
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When I grow up, I want to be like the Studebaker Hawk instrumental jam (Studebaker Hawk — he’s really outa sight…)
… — but remember, S.H.: a mountain is something you don’t want to F with