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The Micro-Blues

John Glassburner began his 2/6/04 Straight Street show with this tribute to microbrews, in honor of opening night of the KLCC Microbrew Festival:

by John Glassburner

My woman done left me,
My parents just passed,
My childrenÖin prison,
The carís out of gas.

My pockets are empty,
Holes in my shoes,
You know what Iím feeliní,
Got those Micro-Blues.

Now some men drink whiskey,
And some men drink gin,
But I need something different,
For the shape that Iím in.

Some men drink lonely,
And some at the bar,
Itís a brewpub for this man,
And now thereís never one far.

And donít give me no Coors,
And donít give me no Buds,
Or Henryís, or Hammís.
Theyíre not my kind of suds.

A Deschutes or a Widmer,
A McMenamins too,
A Big Horn or Steelhead,
To get me on through.

A West Brothers or Bridgeport,
Or Full Sail if you choose,
A Rogue or Rock Bottom,
To quaff my Micro-Blues.

Heffeweisen or Pilsner,
A pint if you please,
A porter or stout,
Makes me weak in the knees.

Give me malty or hoppie,
Robust or just pale,
From Terminator Stout,
To a smooth summer ale.

And whether or not the brew gets you there,
Or something quite different, I really donít care,

Cuz brothers and sisters, to each his own role,
Itís Friday evening on Straight Street,
Let us drink to our SOUL

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