Tom Waits — Crossroads

Now, George was a good straight boy to begin with There was bad blood in him someway And he got into the magic bullets That lead straight to the Devil's work Just like marijuana leads to heroin You think you can take them bullets and leave 'em, do you? Just save a few for your bad days Well well now, we all have those bad days When we can't hit for shit The more of them magics you use The more bad days you have without them So it comes down to finally All your days being bad without the bullets It's magics or nothing Time to stop chippying around and kidding yourself Kid, you're hooked Heavy as lead And that's where old George found himself Out there at the crossroads Molding the Devil's bullets Now a man figures it's his bullets So it'll take what he wants But it don't always work out that way You see, some bullets is special for a single target A certain stag or a certain person And no matter where you aim, that's where the bullet will end up And in the moment of aiming, the gun turns into a dowser's wand And points where the bullet wants to go George Schmidt was moving in a series of convulsive spasms Like someone in an epileptic fit With his face contorted and his eyes wild like a lassoed horse Bracing his legs, but something kept pulling him on Now he is picking up the skulls and makin' a circle I guess old George didn't rightly know what he was getting himself into The fit was on him and it carried him right to the crossroads