She beats her boot against the chair leg and tries not to sing depressing songs. Three false starts and a home run.
She's in love with this guitarist, and she's slept with nearly every guitarist in town. But she just can't kick the coke or him. Still her voice cranks out like a hot summer afternoon; hot, sultry, and loud as hell.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Lynn at Liuzza's
at 9:49 PM
Labels: Louisiana, Love, Music, New Orleans
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