We went out dancing the other night, if for no other reason than I like to wear high heeled shoes. It’s been tough times round here and there’s nothin’ like dancing to ease your troubled mind. There’s nothin like the blues either. It was sweaty in the bar. I didn’t know anyone there except one. No one there was young except one. No one there seemed to have the blues except one and that one was dancin’ all night with only me.
I heard Karen Lovely on the radio awhile back singin her tune “Too Little Too Late”. She’s got this big ol’ voice that reminds me that much of Aretha. I played the song for Johnny. Johnny said Etta. I need to listen to more Etta in order to be able to reasonably argue. Either way though, it ain’t bad. And Karen has a band. And her band smokes what she’s got. And Karen’s got the good stuff. Yeah, I think Miss Karen is on her way.
That night at the bar, I didn’t care that my hair was sticking to the back of my neck. I didn’t care that my feet were punchy and aching. I didn’t care that my dress was limp and clingy against my legs. I didn’t care that it weren’t pretty. See, it was lovely. Yep, it was very lovely.
