I say "Man can I buy off your black moon?"
I don't heed his word tonight, I'm fixing dreams of fraud
Light may come through or softness come to err soon
Salesman tipped his hat to me
Turned on his heel and he walked away
Stopped at the tallest bough and hung the moon in the tallest tree.
Mockingbird speechless, found nothing to say.
Salesman, he come back a week later to town
black paint chipping, a little more today.
He lights a match, climbs a ladder to get it down.
I grabbed his hand, payed him for God and left my home to go pray.