I Got Rambin' on My Mind
Oh….how I dug Humble Pie! Johnny Winter and—bad as a $9 bill. Cream, was the baddest! But Jimi was king, and nobody said otherwise. The Rolling Stones with Mick Taylor, easily the best version of the band, 69 thru 73. 73 being the last great year of rock music for that generation. The music got too uppity. Of course, British rock was always androgynous—not that there’s anything wrong with that. America had Little Richard, and Richard was gay as nobody’s business. One foot in heaven. One foot in hell. I wonder if Richard sweats at night. Once a pentecostal, always a pentecostal, even if your not a pentecostal anymore.
So the same devil that was after Robert Johnson is after me.
Fool don’t stand a chance, I say.
"What about the devil?"
I’m gonna deal with devil by making up a poem.
“I saw the devil, sitting in a tree, he said “hello Bust'a! How do you be?”
I said “Devil! Do I look like a fool?”
Devil say; “Maybe you do, or maybe it’s me?
Now tell me boy, what does God give away for free?”
“Grace!” I shouted. “That’s what God offers you and me.
And then the devil began to flee.
Because a light was shined on you and me.”
Amen!
Bust'a Crab
So the same devil that was after Robert Johnson is after me.
Fool don’t stand a chance, I say.
"What about the devil?"
I’m gonna deal with devil by making up a poem.
“I saw the devil, sitting in a tree, he said “hello Bust'a! How do you be?”
I said “Devil! Do I look like a fool?”
Devil say; “Maybe you do, or maybe it’s me?
Now tell me boy, what does God give away for free?”
“Grace!” I shouted. “That’s what God offers you and me.
And then the devil began to flee.
Because a light was shined on you and me.”
Amen!
Bust'a Crab