Silas Crowe - Born A Bluesman

I was raised where the bayou hums low and mean, Muddy water runnin’ through everything I’ve seen. Learned the blues from my mama’s tired voice. Got a rusted-out harp and a heart full of angst, Been blowin’ out sorrow, been breathin’ out pain. I’ve played country bars and metal shows, Chased that sound where the wild wind blows. Raised on Slim Harpo and delta soul, No matter where these worn boots stand, In my soul… I was born a bluesman. Used to stomp through bars with my brother, Guitars screamin’ like ghosts, fire burning from my lungs. Crowes on the altar, preachin’ swamp-born gospel, Can’t fake the truth when you’re singin’ pain, Every song I played still bled the blues. I’ve played country bars and metal shows, Chased that sound where the wild wind blows. Raised on Little Walter and Chicago soul, No matter where these worn boots stand, In my soul… I was born a bluesman. Now I don’t need no silver, no spotlight glow, Just a half-empty bar and a harp to blow. I been through every sound a man can choose, But only the devil knows… My soul belongs to the blues. I’ve played country bars and metal shows, Chased that sound where the wild wind blows. Raised on James Cotton and electric soul, No matter where these worn boots stand, In my soul… I was born a bluesman. I keep crawlin’ home to where the blues call my name, In my soul… I was born to scream the blues.