Come sit by me.
Am I just the storyteller?
A whisper in your ear?
Tell me young judge and I’ll show you a miracle.

Who are you to be the alderman?
You know nothing of the south, young Baz.
This kind of education isn’t taught in the schools.

He’s down by the bayou.
Drinkin’ moonshine and talking to God,
With the rest of the poor spirits that linger there still.
Hoping to pay penance for their sins that keep them here.

Miracles!
Oh Lord, miracles save us!
They scream bloody murder in the night.
Loud enough to wake the dead,
If they weren’t already walking there.

Hold our souls not for what they do,
But for how they repent.
Standing the test of time,
Making it freeze…

Anger does not live in this house!

Young Jedadiah,
He’s playing with Jesus…
Teachin’ him to walk on water.
To soothe the blisters on his feet.

Amen, young son.
The Savior has risen in the House of God.
The river is the holy water,
Steaming with humidity.

Herein lies the mystery on the dirt roads of religion.
Tread lightly young son…
If you fall...
You fall on briars.