Fifty-five, my brother, yeah, that's fine,
Still got that spark, still that shine.
Life spins the record, same old tone,
You’re that Gibson, burning on your own.
Hey my brother, play your blues,
Let it roll, smooth and true.
Whiskey in glass, guitar in hand,
Still got the soul to rule the band.
Storms and roads, they came and gone,
But your rhythm’s steady, strong and on.
Friends around, and lights so warm,
No need for crowns — you are the form.
Hey my brother, play your blues,
Let it roll, smooth and true.
Live it free, laugh and sing,
Fifty-five — still in your swing!
Somewhere dawn begins to shine,
You smile and say — the world is mine.
Keep it simple — love and home,
And that sweet blues under heaven’s dome.
Raise your glass, my brother, toast,
For every mile and every ghost.
My brother's Blues — it sounds like gold,
For life, for joy, for growing old.
Blues for My Brother
© Copyright: Власов Вячеслав, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125100506186
Свидетельство о публикации №125100506186
Рецензии