The Ghost of the St. Louis Blues
When midnight shadows creep
I hear that ghostly music moan;
It means the end of sleep
To hear the thousand saxophones.
Blues is Only a Ghost
Blues, please leave my room
I'm begging you on my bended knee
Ever since you crossed my doorstep
You been a pain in the neck to me.
Blue Ghost Blues
The blue ghost haunts me at night
The night mare rides me all night long
They worry me so in this haunted house
I wish I was dead and gone.
Blue Moon
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper "please adore me"
And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold.
Ghost of the Terrible Blues
Just make room upon your knee
And the blues won't bother me
Oh, those terrible blues.
My brain can't endure it,
You're the only one can cure it,
Those mysterious blues.
(Images: Edward Hopper, American artist, 1882-1967.)
- - JSH
4 comments:
The second image down is a pastel and not by Edward Hopper.
Thanks for the tip. I hurriedly pillaged it on a tear through a Google Images search for Edward Hopper; I had no cause to doubt it.
As a Hopperesque, it works for me though.
The entry is quite nice, and fits my mood. Good show, old bean!
me likey.
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