Silas Crowe - The Devil’s In The Reeds

Heard him hummin’ beneath the cypress trees, Voice rolled low like a midnight breeze. Mud on my boots, sweat on my sleeve, Something in the dark said, “Boy, don’t leave.” He said, “You got lungs, son, full o’ fire, Play that harp, like a wild choir. The saints don’t come this deep no more, But I’ll trade you blues for a soul to score.” The devil’s in the reeds where the bullfrogs sing, Tappin’ his claws on a rusted string. Said, “Play that harp, don’t miss no beat… You give me breath, I’ll give you heat.” Moon cut sharp through the Spanish moss, Felt my heart skip like a coin I lost. Blowin’ that harp ‘til the air turned red, Sounded like thunder from the mouth of the dead. Yeah, the devil’s in the reeds where the bullfrogs sing, Tappin’ his claws on a rusted string. Said, “Play that harp, don’t miss no beat… You give me breath, I’ll give you heat.” Now the church bells don’t ring my name, Ain’t no light left to chase that flame. But every time I draw that note, I hear him hummin’ down in my throat. The devil’s in the reeds, hummin’ low and mean, Still keepin’ time to my broken dream. He said, “Boy, don’t pray, you already mine… Every bluesman pays in due time.” So if you hear a song floatin’ through the trees, And the air turns thick as memories… You best keep walkin’… ‘Cause the devil’s in the reeds.