BIX

Alone in a mist, the man and his horn, head down

The sun beams are near; the Gin will be Frankie’s in town

Walk on a slant, a capsule for you and your baby

You done this before, you’ll make it this time, you say

 

The peak is so close, you touched it before

You’re almost there now, it’s sitting behind the next door

The stage is your friend, when it’s alive, you shine

But it can turn, alien, lost, high and dry

 

Out here adrift, you hope for the magic to come

You think back again, the times you said you were done

The people, they smile, like creatures you know from somewhere

Impending doom, a lamb in the black demon’s fair

 

Get me through this, I’ll make good my time

I’ll carry milk and honey, in that old nursery rhyme

The sickness is strong, twenty-seven years’ old

Older than sunshine, I’m afraid I will fold

 

I remember Daddy’s voice, the Bacon and Eggs

I feel the fear like Satan, and I whimper and beg

A minute of reprieve, anything for my life

Twenty-seven years old, Bix Beiderbecke died

 

Alone in a mist, the man and his life, head down

The smoke in the room, AA meeting in town

Walk on today, a capsule for you and your baby

You done this before, you’ll make it this time, you say

 

© 1993 Martin H. Wilde

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