The Blake-est Crow (An Exorcism and Catena Rondo for Mindful Poetry)

 

 

The blackest crow that ever flew would surely turn to white
If ever I prove false to you bright day will turn to night

~ "The Blackest Crow", Bruce Molsky Version

 

“Um, I’m not dead yet, people”  ~ Bruce Molsky

 

 

 

 

 

Girl let loose of Bruce Molsky’s soul.

He’ll turn your tail feathers as white as snow.
You’re just thirteen and you ain’t no crow.

So girl let loose of Bruce Molsky’s soul.

He’ll turn your tail feathers as white as snow.
‘Sides you’re too darn young to play that fiddle.
How you learnt it so fast is the devil’s riddle.
And It’ll turn your tail feathers white as snow.

You’re too darn young to stroke that fiddle.
Now how you gonna tell them kids at school,
that he made you a four-stringed bluegrass fool.
Girl, you’re too darn young to pluck that fiddle.

What you gonna tell them kids at school.
Best sling him through the door out to the cold,
altogether, glass breast and name in gold
You’ve nothin’ to tell them kids at school.

Best sling him by the neck out to the cold.

'be better with a guitar and Norman Blake.
If needs be possessed he’s the one to take.
Best sling Bruce Molsky out to the cold.

Might be a sight better with Norman Blake
So girl, get shed of Bruce Molsky’s soul
Anyhow, he’s still alive ... or so I’m told
You’d be a long sight better with Norman Blake's

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whetstone: Often when I'm looking for inspiration on a particular topic, I research it. So, even though I knew something of Bruce Molsky already, I google him .... and got this hilarious story: