Bline Lemon Jefferson is a-coming.
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Tap tap tappin with his cane.
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Bline Lemon Jefferson is a-coming.
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Tap tap tappin with his cane.
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His last ditch lies down the road of trials
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Half filled with rain.
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O Sycamore, Sycamore!
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Stretch your arms across the storm.
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Down fly two greasy brother-crows
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They hop'n'bop hop'n'bop hop'n'bop
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Like the tax-man come to call.
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They go knock knock! Knock knock!
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Hop'n'bop hop'n'bop
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They slap a death-writ on his door.
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Here come the Judgement train
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Git on board!
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And turn that big black engine home.
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O let's roll!
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Let's roll!
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Down the tunnel.
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The terrible tunnel of his world.
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Waiting at his final station
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Like a bigger blacker third bird.
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O let's roll!
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Let's roll!
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O his road is dark and lonely.
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He don't drive no Cadillac.
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O his road is dark and holy.
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He don't drive no cadillac.
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If that sky serves as his eyes
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Then that moons a cataract.
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Let's roll!
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Yeah let's roll!
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[Ad lib]
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Blind Lemon Jefferson
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| Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds |
