Essays, Art and Plays by Dan

Verse 1
I stand where the sidewalks echo with feet,
A lonely harp and a broken street,
Wind in my coat, dust in my hair,
But I’ve got a song hanging in the air.
Tin cup ringing like a hollow bell,
Every note got a story to tell.

Verse 2
This harmonica’s worn like the lines on my face,
Each bend of a note is a time and a place,
I’ve played for panhandlers, I’ve played for rain,
I’ve played for whiskey to soften the pain.
When I draw that breath and let it cry,
Even the city stops asking why.

Chorus
Oh hear that blues harp moan and plead,
A pocket full of sorrow is all I need,
From Delta dust to a city light,
I carry the blues through the night.
You drop a coin, you walk on through,
But the song keeps calling something in you.

Verse 3
I once had a room with a door and a key,
But the road kept whispering, “Come be free,”
Now the curb is my stage, the sky my dome,
Every corner I play feels halfway home.
And though I got nothing a banker could claim,
I got six holes burning with a holy flame.

Bridge
When the train of memory rolls through my chest,
It don’t stop long, but it won’t let me rest,
I bend those notes till they nearly break,
Like promises a man can’t take.
But in that cry, there’s something true—
A kind of freedom in feeling blue.

Final Verse / Chorus
So if you hear me where the cold winds roam,
Know I’ve turned that street into a home,
With every breath I rise and fall,
A battered king with no throne at all.
Keep your pity, let your spirit choose—
To stand and listen… to a man that plays the blues.

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Copyright©2026 Dan Campbell
All rights reserved. This song and its lyrics are protected by copyright and may not be used without permission. If you’d like to share or reuse it, please contact me first — I love hearing from listeners!