5:30AM wake up, shower, coffee, buttered toast, and So What flowing from the radio

its call and response, like smoke, coaxes me softly to some other kind of consciousness

a strange feeling settles at two minutes thirty-three, reality? It's just some charlatan

"you've been a harlot, son." the notes say, "You've sold your best years for a song."

By three minutes twenty-six Mr. Davis had me transfixed, I was living 2/7ths of a life

struggling through the mires of a Monday to Friday strife for such a small slice

but who am I to whine? it's taken quite a long time but...so what? I've found freedom in sixty-four bars.

~Eric Vance Walton~