It is the blues of bent note melodies that cry through tear gas of civil rights and civil wrongs. It is the blues of crossing a blood stained bridge from Selma to Montgomery. It is the blues of one more chance, the blues of truth, the ringing blues of I have a dream sang over the reflecting pool. It is the wind blowing blues from a balcony in Memphis. It is the blues of yesterday we all sing alone. It is the blues we all sing together.
Last Chance Blues (in Six Sentences)