No use in hiding, no use in flight,The shadow’s gonna find your door;It’s a lonesome walk in the dead of night,To the golden, distant shore.
The bottleneck slides like a silver ghost,Pressing hard on the iron string,A hollow moan from the Delta coast,Where the spirit begins to sing. mississippi_fred_mcdowell_you_gotta_move
You may be high, you may be low,You may be rich, or poor as dirt,But there’s a wind that starts to blow,And a truth that’s bound to hurt. No use in hiding, no use in flight,The
The clock don’t care for the crown you wear,Or the silver in your hand;When the Master calls through the heavy air,You’ll leave this weary land. No use in hiding