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lyrics

Mornin', cold mornin', sweep the street.
The maple leaves are rustlin' around my feet.
It's a far, far whistle from home for me.
Shove along, a-shufflin' down the street.

Stranger, no stranger to these blocks--
I've often left them, 'long the walk,
and the people. Oh, the people, how they love to talk!
Keep my head down, a-headin' down to the postman's box.

I'm grateful for the gray skies to dull the shame.
Faithless in the Midwest, you've got to pray for rain.

Teachers and preachers from my childhood days,
always with their questions, their hands a-raised,
sayin', "Mornin'! Good Mornin'! We've all got our praise to pay!"
Humbled and a-mumblin', I fade away.

I'm grateful for the gray skies to call the game.
Faithless in the Midwest, you've got to pray for rain.

credits

from Live at Rachael's Cafe - June 29, 2013, released July 1, 2013
Joe Augustin

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Achilles Tenderloin Indiana

"...unforgettable, filled with both intense emotion and playful reflection. You’ll never forget the day you first saw Achilles Tenderloin..."

"File this one under brave, new blues."

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