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Ray Wylie Hubbard

There was something heavy coming down like Easter in the air
And he woke up Sunday morning with some flowers in his hair
Looking like the face of Jesus in his final agony
That they found on that old winding sheet way off in L.A

He was long gone
He was gone when they rolled away the stone

Something a-come a-shining in that smoky little room
Lit up like a thousand candles in a Middle Eastern tomb
And an angel lay on the mattress and spoke of history and death
With perfume on her lingerie and whiskey on her breath

He was long gone
He was gone when they rolled away the stone

And they found him in the desert picking flowers for the muse
Sometimes he's the fire, sometimes he's the fuse
He's loadin' up his saddlebags out on the edge of wonder
One is filled with music and the other is filled with thunder

He was long gone
He was gone when they rolled away the stone

I never thought to ask him but the thought seemed mighty slim
That he'd ever much believed in God or God believed in him
But they both believed in a woman but like truth they set him free
And now he wonders in confusion for he's lost his poetry

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