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My roots are in Southeastern Kentucky, the inspiration for this suite. Hard times, struggle and poverty are well known to those who live and have lived there. The beauty and allure of the Appalachian mountains will always hold special memories for me.

I get weary and I get weak, they’re been some long tall days. My lips are dry, it’s hard to speak, As we turn and walk our separate ways. Wonderin’ how love got to be this way… wonder how love got to be this way.

Pressure, pressure, pee-pop the pressure, wrap it up and put it down, my life looks like an Escher. Wind it up, shut it down, slip it in your pocket: Is it Phillips? Is it flathead? Lord I can’t find the socket…

Inspired by a stroll through Florence at dusk. Lovers in the dark shadows gave me an image I still cherish.

My passion for New Orleans and my beloved Professor Longhair continue to guide me…

Like a telegram unopened, fearful of the news, hold it up to candlelight and look for clues, or paint a canvas in entirely different hues, or dance your painted garden in your patent leather shoes…

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep… on truckin’…

A modern day Bonnie and Clyde ride the rails, creating havoc, living on the edge.

It’s hard to say where sea meets sand, Where blue meets green, Where sky meets land, Like me and you…

Headline reads: “Man dangling, gasping for last breath, receives comfort from within.”

I spent many summers of my youth in Harlan, KY with my granny, Roxie Pope. Each summer the vacant lot across Mound Street became home to a Pentecostal tent revival. Evenings found granny and me sitting on her porch swing with a glass of homemade lemonade with a sprig of mint from alongside her house. We’d watch the folks come and go and I’d fall asleep listening to the music, hand clapping and preaching from inside that tent. Little did I know I was being infused with gospel music I would carry with me all my life. It was lying in that bed that I first heard “Just a Closer Walk with Thee,” “Rock of Ages,” and “Amazing Grace.”

This tortured soul is his own worst enemy, a dog chasing his tail. Bring on the horn section, let’s rock on.

My mini Opera.