After Midnight

I don't know what it was, by the time I dragged my sorry ass out of bed and got a flashlight, it was gone, sounded like a cat, some small mammal defending it's turf. Nothing happens here that doesn't happen there. Five will get you ten, get out there and dance. Doctor John, Little Lisa Jane, a New Orleans sound, loose, with horns, oh little Lisa, little Lisa Jane. I keep having this dream where people tell me I don't belong, I used to be able to breathe without explaining the process. Doctor John again, Stagger Lee. A late night stumble. I can't understand the words, but it sounds about right. The way he rolls the piano. They're running a special on Doctor John. Patois, talking about hey now. My little girl going to set your little boy on fire. Blow wind blow, all my troubles away. Blow wind blow, until judgement day. The Wabash Cannonball. Bob Weir, really? The hills of wherever that is. The race is over now. Listen to the jingle. You could be sad, play a few diminished chords on a mandolin, I meant what I said, when I said I could get over loving you. It's not that simple, but it's possible. The Dead taking "New Speedway Boogie" out to very limit, then bringing it back, as if that was a normal thing to do. And Greg, I mean, come on, the thrill is gone. Buddy Guy, deep in the blues: I confess, there's nothing I'd rather. I regret some of the things I've done, but by and large, it's a wash. Show me how to live. Sugar Magnolia. She can dance sunlight daydream. Lately, it occurs to me, what a long strange trip it's been. Busted down on Bourbon Street. What a long strange trip it's been. My marbles have all gone down the drain. I'm in need of something, will you do the trick? Till the morning comes, make yourself easy. What you may win, what you may lose.