Silas Crowe - Ain’t Much Light In This Barroom

Ain’t much light in this barroom, Just the weight of my sins. I play for ghosts and drifters, ‘Cause they’re the only ones listenin’. The bartender’s countin’ bottles, The clock forgot the hour. My harp’s been cryin’ low and slow, Like a wilted midnight flower. Ain’t much light in this barroom, But the dark feels like a friend. So I play these blues to stay alive, ‘Cause the quiet cuts just like a knife. No, there ain’t much light in this barroom tonight, Just the shadow of my lonesome life. There’s a woman’s laugh still lingerin’, In the wood and in the walls. Every time I breathe her name, The silence starts to crawl. I keep playin’ out of habit, ‘Cause the quiet cuts too deep. These notes don’t heal or matter much, But they’re all I’ve got to keep. Ain’t much light in this barroom, But the dark feels like a friend. So I play these blues to stay alive, ‘Cause the quiet cuts just like a knife. No, there ain’t much light in this barroom tonight, Just the shadow of my lonesome life. The floorboards creak like old regrets, The jukebox sighs and sleeps. I pour my heart through metal reeds, For the company sorrow keeps. Ain’t much light in this barroom, But the dark feels like a friend. So I play these blues to stay alive, ‘Cause the quiet cuts just like a knife. No, there ain’t much light in this barroom tonight, Just the shadow of my lonesome life.