Breathing air from the same atmosphere; drinking water that has been here for eons. Suddenly the clouds have lifted and I find myself with a special burden. A charge. Me.
My mind is housebroken, more or less, but it can't be left to wander free.
Seems I've outlived the music business, at least that element that I despised, and now the music is mine again. I don't need to remind either one of us that the business was never too crazy about me, either.
My blood is still too red, my heart remains broken but the glass is at least half-full. Johnny Mercer and Hank Ballard, come in. I don't need your help but I won't turn you away.