(I had entirely too much fun writing this one, y'all)
what’s your price, baby?
what gets your motor revvin’
so hard you’d sell anything?
I been watchin' you for a while
and I can’t seem to figure out
what your angle is,
what you want in this world
enough.
anyone will do it, you know that,
right?
you might snicker at the blues man,
the writer, the artist who gives it up
for the spotlight, but
what about a son savin' his father,
a mother savin' her child,
the struggle to live another day
in a world that tries to
take, take, take just
as much as I do.
You think you’re above
the crossroads deal,
the dotted line that never
ends - until it does -
the scratch of a pen
on Old Scratch’s
tablet?
Wait.
I just have to
find the right bait.
As a blues fan, this read as so percussive to me! There's so much swing to your lines. I've read this over and over, performing it in my head!