II

I came home with a harp in my hand
& 18,000 miles of dust on my shoulders.

I'd been dancing w/ Coyotl on the face of the Plains
& tryin'a make my life a story worth tellin'.

Coyotl is the sheepdog watching over all black sheep,
curiosity personified, patron saint of rebels & malcontents.

Johnny & I were lookin' for the roots of the blues.
We spent that whole winter walkin' thru fire.

We went down to the crossroads to stake out the dawn,
counting coup on Lucifer, playing tag like Russian roulette.

The legacy of Legba tracked our sleepless nights,
every turn we took, we saw him standing there.

There were angels in the shade, & devils in the noonday sun.
"Don't try to hide.  Don't try to run. It's Voodoo!  Voodoo!"

We was yellin', "He'p me, He'p me!  Hand me down my bags!
Hellhounds on my trail, boy, hellhounds on my trail!"

My grandmother probably expressed it best,
"You boys aren't really bad.  Yr just a couple of horse's asses"