THE STORY OF GENERATIONS

They brought in a DJ at the Blues Club

Blues Club

They took the Hammond B3 off the stage

(It’s in the room with slot machines, now, covered with blankets)

The young sound technicians like Metal

So when the band does play, it’s all

Kick drum, boom—boom boom—boom

(They boost the drum sound)

No soul, no balance, no guitar,

Boom—boom boom—boom

(They boost the drum sound)

You can’t tell them anything

I’ve lost this one

We’ve lost this one

 

The owner died

The stakeholders hired a young

Cub manager who knows nothing about

Music

Operations manager for a legendary Blues Club

Money

And I watch the young displace

Me in this place

The Metal festival on farmland that the soundman produces

“Is like Woodstock,” a young girl said

“Only real music,” he said

And there’s an end to

A historic Blues Club

 

It’s the story of generations

When I was young

Hendrix

Displaced Bing, Sinatra, Dean Martin

Tragic loss, my parents must have thought

Free love

Woodstock

What’s the world coming to, they must have thought

And I think that, now

 

I’m not ready to let go the reins

And hand the world, my world, over

To the young and

Their ways

I’m not ready to let go the reins

Of this world

This life, my life

Though there is the hope of

My room in His mansion

That where He is, I may be

Eternity

The reins of life, this life, my life

I am not ready to let go

 

The story of generations

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