From the recording Same Soil
Drums/Percussion, Mandolin: Mike Brown
Bass: Tom Vayo
Piano: Jim Ehinger
Vocals and Guitars: David Michael Miller
All The Blues To You
by David Michael Miller
Maybe its the lone man sitting on the porch,
Beat up parlor in his hand,
Stomping on the one beat, drumming with his tired feet,
Strumming as a one man band.
Maybe in a barrel house, washtub with the bass bounce,
Plucking out an 8 bar jam,
Blowing on the old harp, sliding on the guitar
Riding on some old tin cans.
Maybe from the nightclub knocking at the door,
Hear the boogie, jump and jive,
Singer in her high heels, Trumpet with the high squeals,
88 is filling the dive.
Maybe its the big band taking up the stage,
While the leader plays Lucille,
Belting with the church tones, Playing off the trombones,
Swaying with that Chi-town feel.
Just think about it, Why would you ever want to choose,
It's good when its all the blues to you.
Maybe in the delta rising in the struggle,
Its the song of the labor fields.
Maybe in the Stax soul captured on the console,
Spinning on the vinyl wheel.
Maybe up in moTown smoothing out the rough sound,
Harmonies with elegant style.
Maybe from the southland rockin like the south can,
Gyspy flying round a while.
Maybe it's the jam band blurring all the lines,
But the Shoals sound in every note.
Maybe it's the UK rocker with the hip sway,
Howlin with the wolf at his throat.
Maybe in the strat chime tearing up the frets,
And the tubes glowing danger red.
Maybe in this here sound, grown up from the rich ground,
Known by my own blues instead.