Black soul, black night, black cat cross my trail,
Black guitar, black boots, black dust in my nail.
I howl at the moon till the midnight’s on fire,
Got a black-soul rhythm and a razor-wire choir.
Mama said, “Son, you born under a bad star sign,”
So I tuned my heartbeat to a low-down grind.
Black coffee, black smoke, black freight train moan—
Ride that dark sound till the devil calls it home.