Heard a bluesman playing

Six string down so low

In a night left to its Devils

On a day that never seemed to go

Heard an Angel singing softly

Played a harp like I never heard before

Music flowed like honey

Sweet thing of that you can be sure 

But I see before darkness

Of a kind where my don’t want to go

But fear is for them others

A kind o’soul I just don’t want to know

Come heavenly sisters

You brothers from the very pits of hell

Walk with me in darkness

Play our music

Tell our stories

Do it all damn well