mystery song, no. 3

dark talking fellas, do they make their whisper
corner standing fellas, slying and looking
ready to be a thief, and watch their brown eyes
turn blue

sing-song blues, humping and thumping
foot tapping stuff, just made for fools, for heart
hunting strangers making their time
out of time

jesse, come back from your travel, cause the
clouds are gone hard, thick with some heavy
wails

i find them fearsome, these jabber and stomping
men, snapping and cracking, riff-raffing down my
alleys

what is this life i lead, ordered like some sergeant's
bark, but it gives me no sleep, shoving fierce into the
night

lord, he watches and he listens, counts the quick
little whiskeys, as i brown my toes with the falling
sun

tell me quick, about this life, have i gone astray
have i done wrong, lord, and some times you love
me

cause i can see the end