(Poppa was a ) GUITAR MAN

by Terry 4 Replies latest jw friends

  • Terry

    (Poppa was a)

    Poppa drank from Muddy Waters
    made three sons and then four daughters
    Momma owns the things he bought her
    for a song
    She lived like old Blind Lemon
    But his messin’ with wild women
    done her wrong

    I found him in New Orleans
    livin’ off one of his darlings
    in a jail drunk on rye whisky just because
    He’d broken every law there ever was

    I bailed his sorry ass out,
    took him home and watched him pass out
    Then he woke up, swore he’d do it all again
    Friends tell me not to bother,
    I’ll become just like my father
    In bars on bad guitars like my old man

    He’d sing:

    “There’s no harm in harmony
    and nothin’ fair about farewell,
    one of these days I’ll mend my ways
    or end up down in Hell.”

    (I got) one old silver dollar
    in a suitcase in the parlor
    Poppa’s porkpie hat and coat are down the hall
    Gonna break a Pawn Shop window
    Snatch his guitar quick and then go
    grab a southbound bus to Nachadoches town

    Bar chords earn my living, and some women are forgiving
    When I sing the things the lady loves to hear
    Girls with lonely faces sipping beer in lowdown places
    Guitar Man’s the candy for her ear

    Now I sing:

    “Darlin’ I sure love you, my oh my
    If you piss me off this bird is gonna fly
    Boo-Yah - why oh why oh
    Do I do the thing that makes my baby cry?”

    You can live for love or glory
    but the moral of this story
    Is that Fate determines “what, where, when, and why”
    Some of us are teachers,
    plumbers, bums, or holy preachers
    In the End my friend, we’re all a-gonna die

    Poppa was a Guitar Man
    He sang the Blues but had no plan
    Now I’m the acorn from his crooked oak,
    I play for drunks and sing for meals
    Or break a window and I steal
    Just go ahead and laugh but I’m no joke

    Some cats fall - land on their toes
    (but that’s just how their story goes)
    Dogs chase cars - run over on the road
    I pluck, and slide, and moan and wail
    I got my tiger by its tail
    All a man can do is bear his load

    Bar chords earn my living, but some women are forgiving
    When I sing the things the ladies love to hear
    Those girls with lonely faces
    sipping beer in lowdown places
    This Guitar Man is the candy for their ears


    I got one old silver dollar
    That he left me when he died
    Momma cried and called to tell me at the Bar

    I told her I was sorry, she said,

    “You know what you are?”
    I guess I maybe should have, could have lied

    I said: Poppa was a Guitar Man and so am I

    I said:

    “We don't choose our lives because

    I am just what I am!

    I’m only what my daddy was…


    Poppa was a Guitar Man


    I said Poppa was a Guitar Man
    I don't know if this is a song, a poem, or just a waste of time! :)

  • myelaine

    That's a departure from your usual writing.


  • Terry


  • BluesBrother

    I loved that….. any man who can write about the Blues is a friend of mine.

    For all its coarseness and bad ways , The Blues has an honesty and simple humanity that reaches my soul.

    Thanks Terry

  • Terry

    I preesh ya BB!
    The Blues is honest, unadorned, humble, and often redemptive even coming from a rascal or two :)

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