he’s making
deals with the devil
he sits by his right hand
he maybe promising heaven
but he ain’t that kind of man
he’s always talkin’ ‘bout good times
but never in a future tense
if you decide to take his hand
don’t expect him to be your friend
he’s comin’ and goin’
the promised land
don’t ask him to help you
‘cause he can’t
the medicine man
the medicine man
if you turn left at the cross roads
if you’re headed for a dead end street
don’t be lookin’ for stop signs
cause that’s something you won’t meet
don’t be mislead by the roses
that grow by the side of the road
‘cause if you go back again barefoot
there’s thorns deep in your soles
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