Seven To Eleven

Texas Blues is music, ending with a period
You can’t go read out of a book, and be superior
Nothing you go take a bite out of, and eat it
It’s something that is just there, real like legit

Playing sets, from seven to eleven
Crowds roll in, think their in heaven
Start with some slow riffs, like your first lesson
Then unwind my weapon, to close out the session

It’s something you grew up with, just there
I don’t know if it’s the dirt, water or the air
But hope to god, it’s a bit of all of them, hey son
By the way, moving to the West Coast, to see what’s on

Playing sets, from seven to eleven
Crowds roll in, think their in heaven
Start with some slow riffs, like your first lesson
Then unwind my weapon, to close out the session

King Albert Collins, either deny or release the freeman
Hell! He ain’t forgot what he knew, for any reason
Freed de king, over and over and over
Texas Blues is a feeling moreover

Playing sets, from seven to eleven
Crowds roll in, think their in heaven
Start with some slow riffs, like your first lesson
Then unwind my weapon, to close out the session

Something, I’m glad I know a little about
But not as much as I should, no doubt
Into both winter rain and summer shine
The two journeys of hope and land of crime