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-shinin' 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.