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Highway sixty-one and forty-nine

Highway sixty-one and forty-nine


 A man stumbled into the light from the darkness up ahead,
He claimed that he could play guitar just like the devil said.
The sky opened up and cried while the man played away,
As I stepped into the darkness I could hear the angels pray.

“We pray for your protection on this crossroad made of fire,
On this legendary blues highway the devil bargains with desire.
Many souls have been traded for that handshake in Clarksdale,
And when the devil comes to call, the red carpet leads to hell.”

The shadow’s whispered poetry and tempted me with fame,
“You can have a silver tongue, just give the devil your name.
The poetic phrases from your lips will stand the test of time,
Every word dipped in fire to recite the perfect rhyme.”

“Resist the devil and he must flee” I mumbled under my breath.
“And in the name of God I will defeat the reaper’s death."
Highway sixty-one and forty-nine was not gonna be my fate,
The last crossroad that I walk, will lead to heaven's gate.

Copyright © Troy Snyder

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