No Blood Left

   
My life's blood is all drained out;
  Bones of my experience been bleached white;
My soul may never catch on fire again,
  so where shall I go, Honey, and when?
Trying to sing the blues in a minor key,
  but my voice is corrupted with that damn center C.
Show me how to sing blues, Honey, and tell me when.

Spring is here but the sap won't rise,
  Dead tree in the morning, can't open my eyes.
My heart needs to find a forest fire,
  but where shall I go for a light, and why?
I wish I weren't singing blues in a lonesome tone,
  and my voice deceives me with a note of hope,
But how can I sing happy, Honey, ever again?