Blind Willie McTell-Mick Taylor

Seen the arrow on the doorpost Saying, “This land is condemned All the way from New Orleans To Jerusalem” I traveled 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 tents The stars above the barren trees Were 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 blooming See the ghosts of slavery ships I can hear them tribes a-moaning 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 Bootlegged 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