Since my baby left me
Ain’t no music in my soul.
I said, since my baby left me
There ain’t no music in my soul.
She took away the sunshine
All I got left is gray and old.
“You’re playing my song, brother,” I said, so softy no one heard. “You’re playing my song.”
For much of my life, I’d lived in the shadows. She changed all that. Everywhere she went, life was a blaze of color. You couldn’t look at her without being dazzled. Green eyes, red lips, flame to her hair.
I was dazzled. So dazzled, for a long time I couldn’t see. So I shut my eyes and saw all the colors she brought to our days, to our nights.
She changed my life from shadow, then changed it back again.
I used to find people. I was good at it. It’s what they paid me to do.
I found her. And I found him. I found them.
There was one last flash of brilliant red. Then my world grew dark again.
I still find people. It’s how I pay my way, now I have nothing left to lose.
I look once more at the singer. “I’m not here for you tonight, brother. No matter what you say, there’s music yet in your soul.”
I drop a twenty in his glass. “Me? I lost my soul two, three lifetimes ago.”
I drift towards the man in the expensive suit pouring expensive champagne into two much younger women. He’s the one I’m here to find.
I’m still good at it.