She said I’ve told you once, I’ve told you twice;
maybe a million times before.
I guess no one’s counting anymore.
And so I’m walking these streets for another night,
trapped in the amber of the old street lights and
the strawberry blonde net around my heart that’s
keeping the whole thing from falling apart.
Oh, who knows enough to pick and choose
what we keep and what we lose?
I have nothing but the sincerest thanks for you because
you are the girl who taught me the blues.
I drink my coffee black now, that’s the way it’s been
since the lighter stuff reminded me of your skin when
wrapped in midnight and the dim light of the moon.
And I’ll admit I used to like to watch you breathe
when you were asleep, and wonder what your dreams were.
I guess that shows there’s beauty in the things we all need but
who cares enough to find it at times like these?
So put on your makeup and your newest shoes for
the next boy who wants to make your dreams come true.
And I hope that he does, it’s the least I can do because
you are the girl who taught me the blues.
And one of these days, in a year or two,
if I see you in the back of a crowded room
I won’t give a dedication, but know it’s for you because
you are the girl who taught me the blues.
From Cork, Ireland, Lewis Barfoot writes mystic, majestic songs derived from regional folk, with an ambient music aura. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 11, 2023
These two tracks by the Chicago folk singer were produced by Jackson and her frequent collaborators KAINA, Sen Morimoto, and Nnamdi. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 27, 2023