You push the door open
And walk into this
Little hole in the wall
On Mass Ave., so easily
Missed if it wasn't for the
Music streaming through
The cracks in the wall.
It's smoky of course
(All really good bars always are)
And it's dimly lit, and the sound, the music
Riding above all the smoke is bittersweet,
And hints of dying dreams.
The people around are mere
Shadows implying human forms,
They could be ghosts,
As you maneuver your
Way to the bar. You order
Whatever strikes your fancy tonight,
And as you're waiting for the old bartender
To hustle your drink, you
Hear a voice start to sift and weave it's way
Into the music. You turn an expected
Smile towards the front of the bar.
It's the man you've come to hear.
Weepin' Willy has begun to
Cast his magic on this near desperate place.
He stands beneath the hot lights
Of the pseudo-stage
And belts out blues standards,
While his guitar croons sweetly along with him.
He is almost as old as the songs
He sings, and his voice is so mellow
You sink right into it like
A comfortable chair.
He is the king of the blues in this
Particular court, and he rules with
A certain and steady hand. As he leads
You down one melody to another, the
Bar fades away and there is nothing but
Willy and his guitar, as he sends shivers down
Your spine, the way that only really good
Blues music can do. You want to close your eyes,
And just feel the music flow through you.
But instead you watch him as plays his music, his chocolate
Brown skin slightly shiny with sweat, he closes
His eyes as he tells you that his woman done him wrong.
His hands lovingly run over the guitars strings making
It tell the story with him; punctuating his pain in all the
Right places; and you're there. Transported to where he wants
You to be, and you will relish the moment.
Then, it's over, he finishes with a flourish and
Steps into the crowd to accept his well
Deserved scotch and soda from his favorite lady.
You sigh, because you want more, but you're
Still satisfied, and there's always next week.
When Weepin' Willy will step back under the lights
And capture your soul again for a little while,
In this hole in the wall bar in Cambridge, called the
Can Tab Lounge.