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Michael Prins
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Poor Boys Blues
Tappin' of boot heels is the sound of my night.
Replaced by her breathin' as she left my sight.
And I walk and I wonder, to nowhere in the dark.
Words from beneath in whispering grief.
And this cold catching weather is growing beneath my skin and my vains.
And my eyes start to fall, but I cannot sleep.
A poor boy's blues
A poor boy's blues
A poor boys blues tonight
I'm sorry, I'm sorry' I'm sorry as hell.
I scream from my dream as I see her leave.
But she is not here and I am not there.
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A space in between is the voice of this scene.
And the distance now rules and nothing is close.
Everything's far. Far from my heart. Far from my heart.
And the truth now is killed in a headline of lies.
A poor boy's blues
I sing a poor boy's blues
A poor boy's blues
A poor boy's blues
I sing a poor boy's blues tonight
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