Hello, If you navigate to the lower left of this page, and click on the \"Official Website\" button, you will go to my website. Once there, you may listen to the songs all the way through, and read the lyrics posted on the music page. Thanks for visiting, and if you have the time leave a comment. Frank Ramon Footnote: For all of the blues fans. John Lee Hooker was still with us, when I had the good fortune to have his band in the studio while they were on a break from the road. John Lee is on to another show, but his legacy lives on. Thank you John, for your heart, your hands, and your songs. Michael Osborn was John\'s Lead Guitar at the time. You can hear his brilliant playing on all of the blues songs on \"Life On The Road\" as well as that of the other guys in John Lees band at the time. You can also catch Michael Osborn\'s tasty playing on his CD Baby page Frank Ramon \"The music\'s in the masses and the masses are in me. For all of you everywhere who have eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to heal...these songs are for you\" - Frank Ramon Time is the stairway to heaven or hell, the path of distinction or extinction Outside the Prison Walls Promises and Poems from the Wrong Side of the Tracks All my life I’ve been a big man. Somewhere north of 300 pounds for most of the time. But life can make you feel small, and I’ve been as small as those pin pricks of fading starlight that drown so swiftly with the coming day. I’ve been so small that it’s hard to take the next step because it doesn’t seem to get you any closer to anywhere and it doesn’t seem to take you any further from your problems. The distances are too great and you’re just too small. That’s what life can do, make you small. Then out of the blue it drops love in your lap and you’re riding giddy in a balloon that’s your own heart. You’re as big as you can imagine then. Nothing seems impossible. It’s all you can do to keep from bumping your head on the sun. But you wouldn’t feel like that unless you knew the loss and wanting of being really small. That’s the b**ch of it. I learned about the blues a long time ago. My muse taught me how to play the blues a little after that. But I’m still learning the blues. The happy parts — a little love, a break here and there, family taking you back—those are what we use to sew up the scars from the blues. The joy, the blues. They’re all different rooms in the same house. The house is a prison. It’s your life. Sometimes you’re happy there, so happy that the prison seems like a palace. Can it be a prison if it’s where you want to stay? Other times, you would pay in body parts just to get a ticket away. A ticket out. You’d do almost anything, or maybe anything. Sometimes, some of us, we find ourselves outside the prison walls. And we howl. We warn the other prisoners, and we howl. We don’t have much chance of being heard, but that’s not the point, is it? Outside of Your Inside When will you wander These blacktop streets again looking for that man of yours looking for that long lost friend like the baby wants the bottle you want your breakfast too but locked up now behind the bars you only get the blues in the sky,outside your walls the stars are shining still and some ones arms will wait for you but now there\'s time to kill with still tomorrows left to go and nowhere left you can call home your in a crazy crowded hole and still you feel alone I wish I had a magic song to cure all your ills I wish I had a million bucks to pay all your bills but if wishes turned to horses beggars all would ride and I could tell the biggest lie that time is on your side sometime soon I\'ll see you and we can share the maps of all the places, times and friends that we have ever had until that sweet tomorrow these words will have to do although your all alone in there my thoughts will be with you Frank Ramon somewhere outside your prison walls July 26 2007 Song For New Orleans The masters take the meat And leave the bones for the fools Yeah man may have his dreams But nature rules The wind may blow your walls down And water flood your schools Yeah man may have his dreams But nature rules You know there’s no sense in complaining Who would you direct your fury to? You can cry and have regrets But you still cannot forget That man may have his dreams But nature rules, nature rules, Many have their dreams But nature rules Frank Ramon From the Flood of Katrina 8.29.2005