Blood on the Blues

“They tried to wash it clean… but the blues don’t bleed away.”

Every string cries like a wounded man, Every note carved by a calloused hand. I’ve poured my soul through steel and flame, And the blues still whispers my name.

Blood on the blues, it stains the sound, Every tear, every sin I’ve found. Blood on the blues, it don’t forgive, It’s the only truth I’ve got to give.

The stage is empty, but the smoke still stays, Every chord’s a ghost that never fades. You can steal the crown, you can take the fame, But the blues still burns in my veins.

Blood on the blues, it stains the sound, Every lie, every deal gone down. Blood on the blues, it writes my fate, The truth don’t bend, it won’t abate.

This ain’t music, it’s a wound that sings, Carved in whiskey, scars, and strings.

Blood on the blues, it’s all I am, Every scar, every broken plan. Blood on the blues, it cuts me true, But it’s the fire that pulls me through.

“…blood on the blues.”

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