Monthly Archives: July 2012

Hatful of Sorrow

I’ve got myself a hatful of sorrow and loose change
Playing the blues harp, though it suffers from my range
Down at the old bus depot, keeping out of the rain
Giving each passerby the saddest eyes I can feign
Trying to muster enough funds to purchase a pass
To any destination, whether it’s coach or first class
Cos the girl I loved played a dirty trick on my heart
Now I’m going out west to give myself a kick-start

And I fish the final Lucky Strike out of my pocket
Take a nice, slow drag, I know this is what I’ll get
Have to savor the taste, before I step inside this old hotel
With a burnt out neon letter in the sign, I ring the bell
The night clerk has heard it all one hundred times before
Says check-out is ten a.m., I’ll be staying on the third floor
Now my dreams aren’t dead, they’re merely in a coma
Here in this dirty little town somewhere in Oklahoma

Out west I waste a dime inside an antiquated phone booth
To make a call back east and see what’s left of my youth
But the line rings and there ain’t nobody around to answer
Head to a club to waste a few bills on a weathered dancer
Said she came out here twenty years ago and never made it
She held the bait out there and I said, honey, I’ve got to split
Now I’ve got myself a cheap suit and my hatful of sorrow
With an aim to board the first train out of here tomorrow