Transfiguration Of Blind Joe Death (for John Fahey)

Yeah, on the riverboat, we had it all

the same, and some lived, some got

drunk, some died, some won, some 

lost, some couldn’t remember why

they cried…

….in the fog of the river…drifting 

slowly downstream…someone

playing the banjo…smell of cigar

and pipe smoke..we all knew where 

we were gong to wake up tomorrow…

the slave market…the crossroads of

armies grinding to war…staging area 

before the front lines…dropped into

a hot zone…overrun at base camp

by a sudden onslaught…in the bright

sun of red morning only one bretheren 

dead in his bunk with his throat cut

we were right now

yeah, the riverboat down the vein

we were just drifting on at night, in the 

hazy whisky mind…smoky silence…

we knew there was no future.

We didn’t need one.