"Blind Willie McTell", by Bob Dylan, 1983

Seen the arrow on a door post
Saying this land is condemned
All the way from New Orleans to Jerusalem
I travelled through East Texas
Where many martyrs fell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

Well I heard that hoot owl singing
As they were taking down the tent
The stars above the barren trees
Was his only audience
Them charcoal gypsy maidens
Can strut their feathers well
But nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

See them big plantations burning
Hear the cracking of the whips
Smell that sweet magnolia bloomin'
See the ghost of slavery ships
I can hear them tribes a'moanin'
Hear that undertaker's bell
Nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell


There's a woman by the river
With some fine young handsome man
He's dressed up like a squire
Bootleg whiskey in his hand
There's a chain gang on the highway
I can hear them rebels yell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

Well God is in his heaven
And we all want what's his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
I'm gazing out the window
Of the St James Hotel
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell