Plant A Tree Poetry Poet Lyric

Blood On the Pane, Prints On the Sill

Kinfolk pleading with me say "John"
"Keep dancing with the devil 
And you'll wind up gone"
There ain't no need to take alarm 
I've got my brand new 
Blue suede dancing shoes on 
Wake up early in the morning 
To get the jump on me 
I can be found underneath 
Any old sycamore tree 
Pulling on a pipe 
And peering at the Moon 
Sitting in the dark 
Laughing like a loon 
There was blood on the pane
Prints on the sill 
One way to heaven 
A million to hell 
I can hear Saint Michael's trembling bell 
Trembling bell, trembling bell 
Ring your bell, baby ring your bell 
Rock the bell, rock the bell

There's a river in the valley 
That'll cleanse your soul
Wash the blood from the hands 
From the life that you stole 
If that life is your own 
You better drop all of the pebbles 
And scrub with a stone 
If you had saw what I had seen 
You could scrub all you want 
But you'll never come clean 
You can string me out 
Hang me up to dry 
I'm going to bleed this life 
Till the day that I die 
I accepted God right before I fell 
One way to heaven 
A million to hell
I can hear Saint Michael's trembling bell 
Trembling bell, trembling bell 
Ring your bell, baby ring your bell 
Rock the bell, rock the bell

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