Another empty bar room
Playing songs for empty chairs
A deaf dog and his blind master
Are in the crowd and no one cares
The singer tells his stories
No one really wants to know
They're trying to watch the tv
No one cares about his show

A break comes and he's sitting
Talking to the tender of the bar
On a torn and worn out bar stool
Eating pickled eggs out of a jar
Complaining of his station
How he is just playing, making rhymes
When a voice out of the corner asks
"Can we talk...if you've time"

I've been around for ever
Since time began for sure
I can help you if you'll let me
I can open up the doors
I'm known by many titles
Silver tongued, though I may be
I can help you if you'll let me
But, my help....is not for free

I've helped singers before you
Wives, and mothers, fathers, sons
I've helped with politics and warfare
I've been at both ends of the gun
In your case, it is simple
I'll talk of music and of muse
And I'll give you some advice boy,
Some advice, I think you'll use

I was there back in the fifties
When Hank Williams died en route
Who'd you think was driving?
I helped him pick his suit
I made deals with Elvis Presley
One too many so it seems
I help many climb the mountain
They deal with me to reach their dreams

I've been around for ever
Since time began for sure
I can help you if you'll let me
I can open up the doors
I'm known by many titles
Silver tongued, though I may be
I can help you if you'll let me
But, my help....is not for free


Talent is a godsend,
****, I hate that word
But, it only gets you started
You don't move on, if you're not heard
I was there with Jimi Hendrix
I sat and watched him die
He was only one of many
Who could look me in the eye

I've crashed cars and downed airplanes
I've watched so many play the fool
I was there back in the sixties
Pushing Brian Jones into his pool
Keith Moon and countless others
Have sought my help to move along
They gave their souls for ever
For the small price of just a song

I've been around for ever
Since time began for sure
I can help you if you'll let me
I can open up the doors
I'm known by many titles
Silver tongued, though I may be
I can help you if you'll let me
But, my help....is not for free




I helped a man named Chapman
Buy a gun and change his time
He wanted to be famous
And I wanted his soul to be mine
I helped Belushi load his needle
I was there with music ******
I remember how Jim Morrison
Shut his eyes, and closed the Doors

I can help you if you'd let me
Take you far from clubs like these
Put you far up on a mountain
Where people come crawling on their knees
The man looked at the stranger
The barkeep couldn't see
Don't worry said the stranger
Right now, it's you and me

I've been around for ever
Since time began for sure
I can help you if you'll let me
I can open up the doors
I'm known by many titles
Silver tongued, though I may be
I can help you if you'll let me
But, my help....is not for free


There's a deal upon the table
It might be vague, but trust me son
No one else in life will help you
I'm the only one
As there's a god in heaven
He doesn't care if you get rich
And face it, aren't these taverns
Just enough to be a *****
I can have you playing big shows
Selling out, folks know your name
You can be the one controlling
Not just playing in the game

A handshake, all I need right now
The contract, I'll work on
Just tell me that you'll do it
And from now on, I'll be gone
I was Allen Klein to many
Colonel Tom to others too
I've been Beelzebub and Faustus
I've been many names to you

I've been around for ever
Since time began for sure
I can help you if you'll let me
I can open up the doors
I'm known by many titles
Silver tongued, though I may be
I can help you if you'll let me
But, my help....is not for free


The offer is a good one
Just look around and make a choice
You came here on a greyhound
You'll leave in a Rolls Royce
Time will be your ally
You will have all the time you need
To reach the music high ground
To have the fame, to succeed

The barkeep broke the silence
The singer went back to the stage
But, somehow he was different
It seemed the singer turned the page
What answer did he give him
Did he take the Devil's deal
Was this just a drunken vision
Or was this devil's offer real

We may never know the answer
For talent only goes so far
And for now the singer's singing
To a deaf dog in this old bar
The silver tongued kibitzer
Disappeared into the night
Did our singer sell his soul or
Did our singer do what's right?

I fell into a bottle
Four Presidents ago
looking for the hidden song
Just before a show

Once I thought I found it
I was in about half way
When I took the stage I found out
I was far too drunk to play

Every bottle has a song
somewhere deep inside
I haven't found one yet though
but, ****...i know I've tried

Each line upon my weary face
And scar upon my fingers
is the end result of searching for
the song that always lingers

If it isn't in one bottle
in the next it may be there
so for now, i'll just keep searching
for the song that isn't there

there's songs in other places too
too dark for me to go
some find songs inside a needle
those aren't songs I want to know

I come by my songs honestly
my scars show I've looked deep
But, when I'm almost there and see it
That's kinda when I fall asleep

when I'm sober, I can't find them
once I'm drinking, then I hear
The song calling from a bottle
I'm like an alcoholic seer

I know I'll find the right one
And it just may be today
I only hope I find it
Before I'm too **** drunk to play

I only hope I find it
Before I'm too **** drunk to play

जोहोलाव नीलेस्वर ब्रह्म।
बर' मेथाइ जारिमिनाव बिनि मुंङा जेब्लाबो सिगां।
नाथाय बियो सासे मेथाइगिरिल' नङामोन।
थुनलाइ, राजखान्थि गुबुन गुबुन बिथिँआव बिनि आखाय दं।
नाथाय आं मेथाइगिरि बादिल' गोसोखांनो नागिरदोँ।
बे दिनै आं बे जोहोलावखौ गोसोखांदोँ।
जाय जोहोलाव मुं मोननाय बर'नि जारिमिनाव।
नीलु होनना बर' फरायसाफोर आरो बर' लेखा गोरोँ जारिमिन फरायग्राफ्रा मिथिगौ।
1927 मायथाइ (11पेब्रुवारी) याव जोनोम मोननाय
नीलु आरो आंनि गेजेराव बेसेबा फाराग दं।
आं उन्दै, नाथाय नीलुआ?
बियो नैजि जौथाइनि सासे गेदेमा।
मेथाइ मुलुगाव बर' हारिखौ गिबिसिन फोजाखांग्रा बुंनांगोन।
बियो बर'नि खुगा मेथाइ,
सल', सलबाथाफोरखौ बुथुमना मेथाइ रोजाबदोँमोन।
बियो गोसो गोथारै बर' हारिखौ सिबिदोँमोन,
बर' हारिखौ जौगानाय लामाजोँ दैबायनो नाजाथारदोँमोन।
जारिमिना बुङो-
बियो बर'फोरनि गेजेराव सिगांसिनथार मेथाइ रोजाबगिरि।
उन्दैनिफ्रायनो मेथाइ रोजाबनो मोजां मोनग्रा
जोहोलाव नीलुआ दुलाराय मुलुगावनो बर'नि मेथाइखौ रेडिअ'नि गेजेरजोँ रोजाबना फोसावग्रोदोँमोन।
बियो बै समनि बर'नि अनसाइ आफादनि मददजोँ
1952 मायथाइयाव गिबिसिन मेथाइनि केसेत दिहुनदोँमोन।
1954 मायथाइयाव बियो लक्ष्णौ भातकान्देयाव  गोजौ थाखोनि (खाम, जथा, सेर्जानि गुबुन) दामनाय-देनाय सोलोँनो थांदोँमोन।
1984 मायथाइयाव जानाय दुलाराइ बर' थुनलाइ आफादनि जथुम्मायाव (गसाइगाव) बियो हारिमु आयदानि दैदेनगिरि बादि गावनि गियान मेँरोङै मावगोरोँ दिन्थिलांदोँमोन।
बयखौबो दाख्राय दाख्राय खावलायनानै गावनि सिमांआ जाफुंनो लामा लानाय समावनो बियो अब'थिरा जिउ गोमानायसै।
1 जानुवारी 1986 मायथाइयाव बियो मुलुग संसारखौ नागारलाङो।
नाथाय थालांबाय जारिमिन, मेथाइ देँखो गारां बिनि।
अराय थुलुंगागोनां बिनि सोरजि रोजाबथिनाय रैसुमै देँखो।

Brown eyes which mirror mine
Could you sing to pass the time?

Gypsy Rose Lee.
Is that you or me?
Does that make you Baby June?

The favourite and best
No concern for the rest
You sing and you dance in the tune.

Or just like Gypsy
You learn how to strip tease
The glamour and glitz of the night.

But who's mama Rose?
And how could I know?
She pushes and leads to a fight.

But Gypsy is magic
And a rare art form
And June is so dainty
Doesn't know when she's born
She's the centre of attention
She's the first one who speaks
And Gypsy is left there
Still being Louise.

Chow mein and lambs
Travel the land
A show on vaudeville stage.

Let me entertain you
Let me have a try too
Honey, were you not entertained?

At age 8* my teacher would ask me what I wanted to be when I grow up, so I told her a fashion model.
She laughed and wrote it on the board.

At age 9 I wanted to be a doctor along with half of my class.

At age 10 I wanted to be a teacher, they all told me it takes a lot of education and I would have to work hard in order to get there.

at age 11 I wanted to be an artist, they told me to pick something more realistic so I said a singer.
They said to stop playing games and choose a job.

at age 12 I was pretty hooked on the idea of a singer, so I sang
And I sang
And I sang
Until I believed that I was good enough to be famous.

at age 13 I was so confident about my singing
Until I heard their voices.
Most of the girls in my choir were reaching the high notes and their tones were so clear.
I gave up on that dream.
I knew I wouldn't be like them.
So I began poetry.
This was the year I wrote my first poem "nobody cares".
I showed it to a few really close friends and my sister.
They said it was really good, it got them emotionally and that was what I was aiming for.
At first the poem was about 2 pages long but I cut it shorter every time I showed it people because they told me what parts didn't make sense to them.
I took it as a way to improve my poem.
So then I started posting it on quotev, and tumblr, and now hellopoetry.
I wasn't expecting anybody to like it.
I continued poetry and now it comes to me so easily, I can write poems like I'm writing my own name.

at age 14 I told my teacher I wanted to be a poet and he told me that
"I needed to improve"
At age 14 I didn't know what I wanted to be.
Nothing was good enough
Nothing was realistic enough
Nobody gave me enough support to go with my dreams.
At age 14 I decided that I wanted multiple jobs.
I still haven't told anyone because I already know what they're going to say.

It ain’t too bad to be from there
Just ask my family and friends
But it’s too flat, ain’t no way out
The roads are all dead ends.
Sometime soon I’ll find a place
Where the music I’ll enjoy
But for now I keep on tryin’
To escape from Illinois!

There’s a river on the border west
That moves a lot of dirt
Mighty Muddy Mississipp
Drowns the pain and covers hurt
Yeah, I’m movin’ south to New Orleans
Maybe I can find employ
In a blues bar down on Bourbon Street
Escape from Illinois!

Well I stopped a week along the way
When I saw the Gateway Arch.
But the folks out by the airport
Were stagin’ up a march.
Seems a white cop fired a shot that killed
An unarmed teenage boy
Oh yeah, the teenage boy was black,
Escape from Illinois.

Kept walkin’ to the Landing
(Named for Pierre Laclede)
It has most every thing you want
But nothing that you need
Some travelin’ folk told me some news
That made me jump for joy
Memphis maybe had some work
Escape from Illinois!

Found the haunted house called Graceland
And the grave where Elvis lay
Where half a million go each year
(Fifteen thousand every day)
They all want to pay respects
To the rockin’ – rollin’ boy
Put their finger in the bullet holes
Escape from Illinois.

Went downtown, knocked on some doors
Once or twice I went inside
But Beale Street was broken
The travelin’ folks had lied.
‘Cuz there ain’t no jobs in Memphis,
Or maybe I’m too coy
So I hitched a ride to Nashville
Escape from Illinois.

Nashville’s a big old meltin’ ***
Lots of great ones started here
But most end up as tourists
Getting’ ****** and drinkin’ beer
So money’s at a premium
And fame’s a fake decoy
End up workin’ in a record store
Escape from Illinois?

From Asheville to Atlanta
From Austin to LA
From Biloxi back to Baton Rouge
Need a place where I can play
I’ll follow all the buskers,
Form a musical convoy
Livin’ day by day and town by town
Escape from Illinois!

I’m a minstrel, like a rubber band
I keep on snappin’ back
I’m gonna make it somewhere
Singing somewhere, that’s a fact
Got my guitar and my music
Gotta do what I enjoy
Find a place to sing my songs for you,
Hell, it may be Illinois!
Phil Lindsey  6/4/15

When I am all grown up
There's lots that I can be
A million different choices
And the choice is up to me

I can be a fireman
And drive a truck all painted red
I can work inside a kitchen
And make sure that folks get fed

I can be a sailor
And sail from sea to sea
I have a million different choices
And the choice is up to me

I can be a teacher,
and teach children to write
Or I can be a singer
And sing on stage each night

A footballer, a builder
or a worker in a zoo
It's up to me exactly what
job that I will do

A dancer, or a dentist
A scientist or vet
It's up to me and no one else
What kind of job I'll get

A painter, or an acrobat
A lifeguard on the beach
I can be an astronaut
And to the stars I'll reach

I can be most anything
There's lot's that I can be
There's so much for me out there
The choice is up to me

I can drive a race car
Let my imagination soar
This is just a short list
There's a million, million more

I can be most anything
There's a lot out there for me
For I am just beginning
And there's lots that I can be

An astronaut, a soldier

Back behind Gianni's bar
The Bluesman sings his tunes
To all the local n'er do wells
And to the stars and to the moon

His voice is coarse as forty grit
His playing smooths it out
He plays upon an orange crate
Comfort is not what he's about

Bluesman, Bluesman play a song
One sung just for me
One that paints pictures in my head
A song that I can see

Buskers, lined the concourse
The street where he was not
This was just a place for tourist fare
He was where the world forgot

His tunes were sung for no one but
Himself and to the air
Out front, that was another world
Bluesman, did not live out there

A crowd has gathered slowly
More of a group, than a real crowd
They heard about the bluesman
And out front was too **** loud

In back, you heard the feelings
Felt the music, heard the strings
You experienced the atmosphere
That a good old bluesman brings

Out of the crowd of fandom
Working his way through the mass
Was a young, tousled haired boy
Everybody let him pass

He rocked in one position
He felt the music ebb and flow
He looked where the notes were airborne
He saw the music go

The bluesman sat and watched him
playing stories, telling tales
Of drunks in old Las Vegas
And of sailors fighting gales

the young boy stood and rocked some
always looking at the air
He wasn't looking at the bluesman
He didn't know that he was there

He walked up to the old man
staring out into the space
that streamed the bluesmans music
right into the young boys face

the bluesman watched intently
As the young lad touched his hand
And he held the bluesmans old guitar
He became a member of the band

The boy moved even closer
If that were possible at all
He was feeling the sweet music
He was having quite a ball

The crowd watched as the bluesman
and the boy became as one
The boy resting his head now
On the guitar, having fun

He couldn't see the bluesman
But the music, it was there
The boy was blind, autistic
He saw the notes that filled the air

The bluesman kept on playing
For that was what the bluesman did
He was playing for the starry sky
And for this wondrous little kid

His mother came and held him
She took the bluesman by the hand
She said thank you for the music
For letting him be in your band

In a voice as smooth as Bourbon
The bluesman told her that her son
Could come and feel the music
The music makes us one

Bluesman, Bluesman play a song
One that's only just for me
Bluesman, Bluesman play a song
That only I can see....