Tekstovi: Joan Osborne. Man In The Long Black Coat.

Crickets are chirpin' the water is high.
There's a soft cotton dress on the line hangin' dry.
The window's wide open, African trees
bent over backwards in a hurricane breeze.
Not a word of good-bye, not even a note.
She's gone with the man in the long black coat.

Somebody's seen him hangin' around at the old
dance hall on the outskirts of town.
He looked into her eyes when she stopped him to ask
if he wanted to dance.
He had a face like a mask.
Somebody said from the Bible he'd quote.
There was dust on the man in the long black coat.

Preacher was talkin', there's a sermon he gave.
He said, "Ev'ry man's conscience is vile and depraved.
You cannot depend on it to be your guide, when
it's you who must keep it satisfied."
It ain't easy to swallow, it sticks in the throat.
She gave her heart to the man in the long black coat.

One, two, there are no mistakes in life.
Some people say it's true sometimes you can see it that way.
The people don't live or die.
People just float.
She gave her heart to the man in the long black coat.

There's smoke on the water, it's been there since June.
Tree trunks uprooted in the high crescent moon.
Hear the pulse and vibration and rumbling force.
Somebody's out there beating on a dead horse.
She never said nothing, there was nothing she wrote.
She's gone with the man in the long black coat.
She's gone with the man in the long black coat.
She's gone, she's gone, gone with the man in the long black coat