Back Porch Blues

The screen door creaks as the evening sets,

A warm wind whispers through my cigarette.

Barefoot steps on the splintered wood,

This old back porch feels better than it should.

The creek runs low, but it’s steady and true,

Like the promises I made but never knew.

Fireflies dance in the fading light,

Carrying secrets into the night.

Oh, this life ain’t fancy, but it’s mine,

Every tear and wrinkle, every crack and line.

The blues roll slow like the river bends,

It’s a lonesome tune, but it never ends.

The bottle’s half empty, but the night’s still young,

The truth tastes bitter when it hits your tongue.

A freight train moans on the distant track,

Carrying dreams that ain’t coming back.

The stars don’t judge, they just hang and glow,

Lighting up the darkness I don’t want to show.

I hum a tune that my mama once sang,

A melody born from heartache and pain.

Oh, this life ain’t fancy, but it’s mine,

Every tear and wrinkle, every crack and line.

The blues roll slow like the river bends,

It’s a lonesome tune, but it never ends.