Smoke Rings

Sitting down here in the morning
With no peace of mind and my soul hanging out on the table

When last night I'm impressing the ladies
And playing a short tune on the guitar if I'm able

Smoke rings fill the air
But there's nobody to hear
What I'm a-saying this morning
Woah, blues is a-coming my way

I just got back from a tour of the Southland
I couldn't find an ear to bend, for my troubles I got no label

What do you think I found on my return
But a young boy a-lying in the cradle

Smoke rings fill the air
But there's nobody to hear
What I'm a-saying this morning, now
Woah, blues is a-coming my way

The ladies weave their magic
On a traveler boy just a-happen to be there for the taking

Everybody just love to stand around
And tell you about the great big mistake that you may be making

Smoke rings fill the air
But there's nobody to hear
What I'm a-saying this morning
Woah, blues is a-coming my way

So I'm sitting down here in the morning
With the blues, no peace of mind, and my soul hanging out on the table

A-when last night I'm impressing the ladies
And playing a short tune on the guitar if I'm able

Smoke rings fill the air
But there's nobody to hear
What I'm saying this morning
Woah, blues is a-coming my way