Joan Osborne

Crickets are chirpin the water is high
Theres a soft cotton dress on the line hangin dry
Windows wide open african trees
Bent over backwards in a hurricane breeze
Not a word, a goodbye, not even a note
Shes gone with the man in the long black coat
Somebody seem 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 quote
There was dust on the man in the long black coat
Preacher was talkin theres a sermon he gave
He said every mans conscience is vile and depraved
You cannot depend on it to be your guide