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 he face of Jesus in his final agony
That they found in that old winding sheet
He was long gone he was gone when they rolled away the
stone
Something come a shining in that smoky little room
Lit up like a thousand candles in a Middle Eastern tomb
An angel lay on the mattress and spoke 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 loading up his saddlebags out on the edge of
wonder
One is filled with music the others filled with thunder
He was long gone he was gone when they rolled away the
stone
Well I never thought to ask him but the thought seemed
mighty slim
If he ever much believed in God Or God believed in him
But they both believed in a woman and the truth that
set him free
Now he wonders in confusion for he's lost his poetry
And 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 loading up his saddlebags out on the edge of
wonder
One is filled with music the others filled with thunder
He was long gone he was gone when they rolled away the
stone
He was long gone he was gone when they rolled away the
stone
He was long gone he was gone when they rolled away the
stone