seen everyone the door closed saying this land is come down all the way new new ruins, two-choice rules alike I travel through East Texas, where many martyrs fail and I know that no one say the blues like blood I will ever make today what I have heard that it could have seen is they were taken down the tent the stars above the barren trees, where the only audience their charcoal gypsy maidens, well they can show scrub their feathers well but no one can say the blues like blood will ever tear see them big plantations by hand, hear the cracking heard the whips spell that sweet magnolia blue man, see the ghosts of the slave-wishy I can hear them trapped moaning, hear them to take us there and nobody could say the blues like blood I will ever tear there's a woman by the river with some fine young handsome man he's dressed up like a squad bootleg whiskey there's a church guy on my highway I can hear their rebels yell and I know that no one can say the blues like blood will ever tear where God is in his heaven and we all want what he is but power in greed and corruptible sin seemed to be all the threshing of the darkness well I'm guessing I could do love the saint James Hotel and I know that no one can say the blues like blood will ever tear you