I met the seventh son. He came for everyone. The day he heard the lightning in the field. I heard him clear his throat. The fork within the road. That night that Tallahatchie took the wheel. I've been throwing knives. To see just where they'll land. Now my world is in your hands. Send in the congregation. Open your eyes step in the light. A jukebox generation. Just as you were. The voice upon the stage. Is the heart inside a cage. And it's singing like a bluebird in the round. There's mystery in this wood. And ghosts within these roots. And it tangled deep beneath this southern ground. I've been going through life. Making foolish plans. Now my world is in your hands. Send in the congregation. Open your eyes step in the light. A jukebox generation. Just as you were right?. Just as you were. Just as you were alright. And you need blind faith. No false hope no false hope. Do you have blind faith?. No false hope no false hope. Where is your blind faith?. No false hope no false hope. Open your eyes open your eyes. Step into the light. Open your eyes step into the light. The sound becomes congregation. Congregation. Congregation. And they're singing like a bluebird in the round