INVITATION TO THE BLUES

I dreamed last night I was flyin’.
Or, maybe I was fallin’, don’t exactly recall.
Maybe it was just a little something that I ate.
Or maybe, it was the writing on the wall.

My woman sent the sheriff after me.
My woman, she sent the sheriff after me.
That man handed me my walkin’ papers.
He said: “Son, you cannot refuse.
This is your signed, sealed and delivered
invitation to the blues.”

Out there on that far distant horizon
I saw some things I thought were gone.
Now I’m stuck back here on the platform,
just trying to write me a goodbye song.

I remember well the night my father died.
I stayed up all night long and watched him die.
Medical science had all the answers,
but nothin’ they could use
to stop a signed sealed and delivered
invitation to the blues.

So take me back home
where my heart is free to roam.
Where my fear and my anger fly away.
Where never is heard a discouraging verb
and the skies, they stay sunny all day.

I dreamed last night that I was dying.
Late last night I swear that I was dyin’.
I woke up early this morning,
seemed like there was nothin’ more to lose.
It was a signed sealed and delivered
invitation to the blues.

With apologies to Roger Miller. Thanks for the hook Roger!