I’m Going Home

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If I should live to see the day

Death comes round to take me away

You can tell my friends

I’m going home

I’ve wandering over this Earth

Ever since the day of my birth

Now you can tell my friends

I’m going home

Have a party, make some sound

When they put my body in the ground

Don’t shed no tear for me

‘Cause I’m going home

I have been here, it can be said

but someday I will be dead

And you can tell my friends

I’m going home

When we moved into the Seidlung in Köln, we met “Onkle Slimmie”. He was a wild, leather-clad, German Punk that drank to excess as well as several other vices, all to excess. But these vices were only secondary to his love of three genres of music; Punk, Country, and the Blues. He was ecstatic to have a bluesman move into the neighborhood, and into his backyard! His music collection was enormous as well as his knowledge of each of the genres he loved so much. He played washboard (that’s him in the upper left corner of the picture) and the neighborhood jams were fantastic! We spent many hours quizzing each other’s trivia of the blues hoping to stump the other. One night his excesses got the best of him and he passed on. Heartbroken but grateful for our time together I wrote this song for him. I think this is what he would have said to us all.