Ellie’s Blues

Editor’s Note: Sometimes, even a bluesman visits his family. The joys of grandchildren climbing all over you is generally followed by a rare, short-term but hellish disease.

Ellie’s cold is killing me.
Doo-dah, doo-dah.
Snot as far as I can see.
All the doo-dah day.

Gonna run all night (my nose),
Gonna run all day.
I need some antihistamines.
I need to get away.

The kids’ house is a haz-mat site.
Doo-dah, doo-dah.
Boogers running day and night.
All the doo-dah day.

Gonna run all night (my nose)
Gonna run all day.
I’m back home in Dallas now.
With a blocked airway.

Furosemide Blues

My doctor found excess water
In my ankles and my feet.
He said, “I have a cure for you,
Here’s a pill that can’t be beat.”

I never used to exercise.
My feet were made of clay.
But now, I take Furosemide.
So, I run around all day.

I’ve located every bathroom,
Between my office and my home.
I’ve panic stopped at most of them.
I’m never far to roam.

I’ve found the shortest distance
To every rest room on my floor.
I know how to avoid the talkers,
I’m not distracted any more.

I’m running more than ever,
From sea to shining sea.
I’ll complete this in a moment,
But first, I have to pee.