From the recording The Road Less Traveled


Verse 1
Here I am, it’s 2 AM, and I’m packing up again
Another night of playin’ tunes for my local friends
The jukebox it’s still blaring a rockin’ country song
At Wally’s on Blood Alley well that’s where I belong

‘Cause all the folks I meet down there
Say just what they feel
Though it isn’t always right
At least it’s always real

Verse 2
I hear they’re all sinners on the road to hell
All they ever do down there is drink and smoke and yell
Guess if that is really true, hell is where I’ll be
At Wally’s on Blood Alley, well, that’s the place for me


Verse 3
I listen to the hustlers exaggerate their scores
Listen to the veterans compare stories of their wars
I hear all the dreams and schemes and the tragedies
At Wally’s on Blood Alley, well, it’s reality


Verse 4
I listen to the criminals complain about the cops
Listen to the gamblers tell me why they cannot stop
I hear all the stories, all the highs and lows
At Wally’s on Blood Alley
I hear more than I need to know

Repeat Verse 1

©2007 Frank Meyer