burgeoning geniuses of rhythm and song
hugging the blues with their guitars
on street corners or in ghetto blues bars
that cry forth clinging laments, soulful chords rising tolling
ancient sadness, exquisite madness
musicians finding their identity
as troubadours of the anguished heart
by way of a beggar's cup
a little luck
and those shouted encores worth more than a million bucks