Ballad Of A Rummy

Went on down to New Orleans

Where good times roll in fever dreams

I was a broke-ass musician with barely a penny to my name

Hopped up on grit and a hunger for fame

Blues was my calling card and rum was my fuel

I played that saxophone so loud I must’ve looked like a fool

Jamming till the early hours on Bourbon Street

I was going to bring the whole world at my feet

Started dabbling in voudou and hanging out with the dead

They were happy to listen and didn’t care what was said

Got it in my head to work some magic

I’d be damned if my jazz career was going to be tragic

So, I summoned The Baron in a graveyard at night

With rum and tobacco in the pale moonlight

In a top hat and tuxedo he came a-running

A bone-white face with eyes of cunning 

He sucked on a cigar and asked if I was afraid

I replied that I’d done scarier things trying to get laid

He laughed at that and knocked back his booze

While I blew on my sax with nothing to lose

I conjured hurricanes and storms that shook the ground

The Baron kept drinking and didn’t make a sound

When I’d finished my set he raised his cup

“Kid, stop trying so hard, you need to chin up

Jazz is that wild bar chick that can’t be tamed

But of course you go after her without any shame

It’s a paradox, a gas, a wonderful con

Keep hold of the spark or it’ll soon be gone.”

The Baron downed his rum and I did the same

Knowing life is simply a rigged game