Woke up this mooorninnnn’, sun refused to shine,
Yeah, my baby gone, and the fault was mine.
Coffee’s cold, guitar’s outta tune,
Lonely rhythm playin’ in a dusty room.

I got rust on my sooooouuuul, cracks in my shoes,
Carryin’ the weigghhht of them midnight blues.
Love done left me, time don’t choose,
I keep singin’, singin’ these highway blues.

The radio’s hummin’ some old 45,
Every note remind me, she kept me alive.
Ashtray’s full, but my heart still burns,
Ain’t no road back, just lessons learned.

I got rust on my sooooouuuul, cracks in my shoes,
Carryin’ the weigghhht of them midnight blues.
Love done left me, time don’t choose,
I keep singin’, singin’ these highway blues.

Lord, the years roll heavy,
Like a freight train down the line.
Dreams turn to ashes,
But the blues still keep me alive.

My hands are blistered, strings cut deep,
Every note’s a secret I couldn’t keep.
If tomorrow don’t find me, at least I know,
The blues took my pain, but they saved my soul.

"But Lord… these blues, they been heavy on me."

"Mmm… set him free…"

"Rust on my soul, cracks in my shoes,
Still I walk with faith, and I pay my dues."

"Oh, carry him through… hallelujah!"

"Took my sorrow, turned it into song…
Now I know, Lord, I’m where I belong."

"Where he belong! / Hallelujah strong!"

"Rust on my soul… but the Spirit keeps me true."

I got rust on my sooooouuuul, cracks in my shoes,
Carryin’ the weigghhht of them midnight blues.
Love done left me, time don’t choose,
I keep singin’, singin’ these highway blues.

Rust on My Soul

A gritty funky blues track. About looking at one's own life from the point of view of 'what I am doing with the time I have?' This is how it goes:

What am I to do with the death bed blues?
You don’t want to be in my shoes
But you don’t get to choose
Win or lose…It’s going to happen to you….
That’s why we get those,
yes we all get those death bed, dead time blues

So what ya going to do, With the life you live
Have you got something for him, 
something to give,  
Anything to live for, something to be forgiven for
I’ll open the door, just for you, 
when you get the death bed blues

When the time comes don’t run, 
there’s nowhere to run, 
You can’t run out on a deal that’s been done
You start breathing heavy 
when the process has begun,
laugh till you pass…..I'll be there with you, 
when you get those death bed..
dead time blues

When I get them too, 
I buy something new….
Avoid the fact, that it will be back
If it’s me next, I slip away on a pretext,
but oh no, when you’re due,
no hiding from the death bed
Dead time blues

I got the Death bed blues, yes I do
I'm slimming to be beautiful just for you
Maybe you will pass me by, tell me some lies
So I can avoid that end time bad news
It’s going to happen to me too…
I get the Death bed
Death bed dead time blues

Oh keep me out of that depressing room, that undressing room, where you loom
Where you lose your bloom, 
and just whose tune you was singing to, 
and who pointed to the moon, 
said you might not be breathing soon
That’s why we get those death bed, dead time blues

But I suspect, even though I'm wrecked
that I should have checked in before I check out,
grab my drink before I'm chucked out, 
but I messed about, just to get paid, laid, 
then I was splayed, I'm on the floor,
I am no more, it’s nothing new,
I have the Death bed, dead time blues

no one wants to be kept in check, or henpecked,
find away without fear,
have some respect,
who knows what’s correct in this crazy world that’s a cult or sect,
that no one suspects they’re caught in it too…
no wonder we all get those death bed, dead time blues

it’s the end of time, it’s the end of the line
the end of me and the end of mine
it’s your last chance to shine,
the way we live is a crime,
if you don’t do what you’re here to do
I can assure you, 
You’ll get the death bed, dead time blues

I got the Death bed blues, yes I do
I'm slimming to be beautiful just for you
Maybe you will pass me by, tell me some lies
So I can avoid that end time bad news
It’s going to happen to me too…
I get the Death bed
Death bed dead time blues

Death Bed, Dead Time Blues

Flow

Club Queen 2

MELANCHOLY  (creeps in slowly)

The Lessons in the Yard
(c) J. Murdock McInnes Vasey

[intro]

The boys ran to the yard
They had their bags of marbles
They knew the game was hard
But they had a trick this time

Some sharper than the others
They had their spots marked out
They stacked marbles at one end
Come and get them they would shout

Roll your marbles if you got 'em
If you hit them you can keep them
If not you lose the bet
And go home with your regrets

[chorus]
I never listened, 
I never had a pyle
I always was the loser, 
But I learned to loose and smile

[01:58][instrumental]

This was a game for suckers
And I was one of them
The marbles cost me money
All that I had to spend

I alway lost more than I won
I don't think that it was fun
We were trying to be tough
To show we were a man

My dad he called me "boy"
He rarely called me son
He'd say "boy, you're going to loose"
"It is time for you to choose"
"You cannot be the roller"
"No one is your friend"
"The only way to get ahead"
"You gotta own the game"

[chorus]
I never listened, 
I never had a pyle
I always was the loser, 
But I learned to loose and smile

[04:24][instrumental]

My dad he called me "boy"
He rarely called me son
He'd say "boy, you're going to loose"
"It is time for you to choose"
"You cannot be the roller"
"No one is your friend"
"The only way to get ahead"
"You gotta own the game"

[chorus]
I never listened, 
I never had a pyle
I always was the loser, 
But I learned to loose and smile

[instrumental]

I never listened, 
I never had a pyle
I always was the loser, 
But I learned to loose and smile

[instrumental]

[outro]


The Lessons in the Yard

The sound of renewal, a new chapter rising with power and grace. 

we-killin’-it

Heard in the House

ANSWER

Buck Ramble — When the Money Ain’t Never Over

Found in dusty reels marked “Goodnight Trail Sessions,” these are the long-lost recordings of Buck Ramble — the saloon singer turned silver-screen storyteller who lived long enough to see cowhands become celebrities.

Every track is a campfire sermon in rhythm: part truth, part tall tale.
He sings about lawmen, outlaws, faith, denial, women, whiskey, and the strange mercy of knowing too much.
By the time the record closes with the title track, Buck’s world has shifted from trail dust to camera lights — but the heart’s still out there under the same sky.

Restored by Volant Records (All Worlds Reserved®).

Genre: Frontier Folk / Western Blues / Spoken Americana
Runtime: ~50 minutes

“Stories are cheaper than bullets — but hit just the same.”

I Ain't Your Angel, Honey

I write the lyrics; Mr. Alfonso Suno composes the music.  Working with the lovely Ms. Ai Ongaku, they create the arrangements.  Ms. Ongaku and her crowd are responsible for the performances.  My part in creating these tracks is very small. Nonetheless, I am to blame.  Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

The Lessons in the Yard

I and Ai

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