Jerome John Garcia 8/1/42 - 8/9/95

All the years combine,
They melt into a dream,
A broken angel sings from a guitar.

In the end there's just a song
Comes cryin' up the night
Through all the broken dreams and vanished years.

Stella Blue.          Stella Blue.

When all the cards are down,
There's nothing left to see,
There's just the pavement left and broken dreams.

In the end there's still that song
Comes cryin' like the wind
Down every lonely street that's ever been.

Stella Blue.          Stella Blue.

I've stayed in every blue-light cheap hotel,
Can't win for trying.
Dust off those rusty strings just one more time,
Gonna make them shine, shine.

It all rolls into one
And nothing comes for free,
There's nothing you can hold, for very long.

And when you hear that song
Come crying like the wind,
It seems like all this life was just a dream.

Stella Blue.          Stella Blue.