I can sense it all around me
Theres somethin in this room
It aint magic nor no witchcraft
No bitch on no broom

Look see his bones are gone
He done left the grave
The grip of death it could not hold him down no
Its for him that I rave

My knees was made for kneelin
An thats just what theyll do
One of these days little girl
Ill go down an pray for you

Look see his bones are gone
Hes done all my dyin
Sometimes hopes so strong in me girl
I commence to cryin

O my brothers
These are the great dust bowl days
Just take a gander round ya
Everything in a wicked haze

The wind blows like the devil when it blows
An a boy grows up an like the wind he goes