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Description

Some days I think it’s all a dreamThe things I’ve done, the places that I’ve beenThis life of mine seemed surreal at timesWasted days and nights in someone else’s mindCould it be I’m not for real?I’ve slapped my face to check out how I feelThere’s hostages to prove it’s trueWho lives behind the mask was never provedCome on Robert Johnson Though we’re worlds apartYou and I know what it’s likeWith the devil in our heartYou sold your soul at the crossroadsKept a little of mine on handI’m wading out this muddy waterBeen stranded in the WastelandRattling chains all around my bedGhosts can laugh but they’re already deadI’m not dying and I’m far from goneThe blues man spent his candle but his pain lives on

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