A lively paced Mississippi Hill Country inspired tune that was written about a time when Covid and bronchitis decimated what was set to be great line up of work, family and music events, leaving behind gaping holes, outrage and injustice. From that smoking wreck emerged this wryly humorous tune.
Lyrics
Well my head made out of concrete
My pillow out of glue
This winding sheet is like a rope
My arms refuse to move
My outlook for today sure ain’t likely to improve
Cause it's summertime, summertime but I got the blues
Well my head is beating like a drum
I can't see fit to move
My throat on fire, eyesi they itch,
Cant get in the groove
To this world I declare; I aint no good to you
Well it's summertime, summertime but I got the blues
Well listen oh lord, I got a bone to pick with you
Cause the last thing that I needed was what you put me through
Continue this state of affairs and our relationship is through
Cause it's summertime, summertime but I got the blues
Well my head made out of concrete
My pillow out of glue
This winding sheet is like a rope
My arms refuse to move
My outlook for today includes no chance to improve
Cause it's summertime, summertime and I got the blues
Cause it's summertime, summertime and I got the blues
Cause it's summertime, summertime and I got the blues
