Chucked all my old blues records away, when they told me I couldn’t sing

They don’t make ‘em Howlin’ or Muddy no more, let go of the teenage dream

Living on the bread line in a Bourbon drenched daze at a Tennessee honky tonk

Landlord says he won’t serve me and my hipflask has all gone

Put it in your crackpipe, smoke it up, numbs the pain like a morphine shot

Harmony, harmony, it’s just soul music but I like it a lot

Style myself as a troubadour, cut from a different cloth

The fabric of my ego ran out, I’m writing myself off

Ditched the English fields, swapped pounds for dollars, a harmless roll of the dice

Stuck on the outskirts of Nashville now, asking skylines for advice

Put it in your crackpipe, smoke it up, numbs the pain like a morphine shot

Harmony, harmony, it’s just soul music but I like it a lot

Spent my second last dime on a studio session, engineer tried to put me down

“We don’t let cowboys cut albums in here, you are talentless clown”

Spent that last dime on a second hand pistol, fired it at his head

Wouldn’t have made Deringer proud, I forgot to buy a bullet

Put it in your crackpipe, smoke it up, numbs the pain like a morphine shot

Harmony, harmony, it’s just soul music but I like it a lot

Country western, I like it a lot

Rhythm and blues, I like a lot

Rock n’ roll, I like it a lot