There’s a restaurant that’s well-known in Natchez called Biscuits & Blues. I was reminded of it when listening to an audio book of Greg Isles, The Quiet Game, as he mentions the restaurant a couple of times. cheap albion silver It’s on 315 Main Street. A picture of the restaurant is below. albion gold That also reminded me of this song I was inspired to write after I heard the story of the restaurant and how its owner, who had gone to California, started a restaurant with the same name there, but had returned to her hometown of Natchez. buy albion silver I heard the story the same night they turned on the lights of the Mississippi bridge last year. cheap albion gold Anyway, I intend to have this song on my next CD I’m making this year with some other originals (Jed Marum, who produced my first CD Bard of the South, is going to produce that one too). Here are the lyrics, though as any songwriter knows, songs seem to be in constant flux, addition and revision. (I read that Leonard Cohen wrote nearly 80 verses to “Hallelujah.”) Biscuits & Blues by Rickey Pittman VERSE ONE: New York was always too busy, In LA I couldn’t breathe, San Francisco was a little too weird, I moved on to Tennessee. buy albion gold I always dreamed of Mississippi, Couldn’t shake that part of me, I kept looking for a way to come back, I’d seen all I wanted to see. albion silver CHORUS: I wanted biscuits and blues in the morning, Walking hand in hand with you, I need a forever love, I’ll give you a heart that’s true, Now it’s biscuits and blues in the morning, And singing the blues at night, Blue moon in that Natchez sky, Tells me we’ll be alright. cheap albion gold VERSE TWO: They turned on the lights this evening, On that Mississippi bridge, We saw it from under the hill, Then from the cemetery ridge. buy albion gold I could see the streets of Vidalia, And the bluffs above the town Hot air balloons anchored and waiting For the dawn to come around. CHORUS: VERSE THREE: Some come to Natchez to look for ghosts, Others for the history, Artists pushed here by hurricanes, Writers for the mysteries. I remember Angels on the Bluff, A bright night much like this, We walked by the Turning Angel, Who turned her head when we kissed.