Author Information
Robert Johnson .Crossroads
You will never guess who I met,
never in a thousand years.
A gentleman of class.
Though people know his fear.
It was down at the Crossroads,
near Dockerys plantation.
That I made a deal,
that had some implications.
Some know him as Diabolos,
I met him as a friend.
We came to an agreement,
that my problems he could end.
The night was cold and dark,
as time ticked slowly bye.
I stood alone at Crossroads
with my old guitar held high.
The midnight hour was now,
wind blew up real strong.
Trees were swaying wildly,
I could almost hear a song.
A dark voice asked my name
and my shoulders gave a shake.
He asked if I was ready,
we had a deal to shake.
My name was Robert Johnson
and I had paid my dues.
It was time for me,
to rule those Delta Blues.
"If this is what you want,
then your dream it will be whole,
but the price it will be heavy,
you have to sell your soul!"
"Are you prepared to pay,
and know it will be lost?"
"The only thing you own
it is a massive cost!"
I looked at my guitar,
then my fingers long and black.
Thought of fame and fortune,
no more living in a shack.
The Deal was done at midnight,
My guitar was finely tuned.
But deep within my chest
I could feel an open wound.
Oh I did not feel it then,
but I knew the Devil wanted.
The Lords Gods only prize
and forever I"d be haunted.
But I was the King,
I was in a seventh heaven,
little did I know,
I would be dead by twenty-seven!
My life was hard but good,
but I made a big mistake.
I wanted to be better
and was tempted by a snake.
Yes I met the Devil.
Patience aint his thing.
He only has one thought,
time to play the sting.
I had never heard of Strychnine.
Life was but a joy.
But I had a friend
by the name of Sonny Boy.
At the end of our house set
we were offered lots of drink.
But Sonny Boy he said.
Be careful and just think.
"Don"t sup an open bottle,
this Devil he is banned."
"If the cap has been removed
just knock it from their hand."
But I was a fool
and drank a Devils brew.
Died a painful death,
the Devil turned his screw.
I got what I required,
got my shot at fame.
Now I lost my soul
and nothing is the same.
I was dead for all these years,
my talent was forgot.
Then life it came back in,
I had another shot.
Rolling Stone of all.
A magizine of note.
Had me rediscovered
at number five by vote.
In 100 great guitarists,
who can imagine such a poll.
A black guy at a Crossroads,
they say he lost his soul!
Well I can tell you this,
if you can Rock and Roll,
then maybe we should talk.
What price is fame indeed?
Your soul?
