Essays, Art and Plays by Dan

BLACK WING PREACHER

[Intro]
Yeah…
Hear that?
Ain’t silence… that’s wisdom talkin’…
Black wings cuttin’ through that sunrise…
Ol’ crow sittin’ high… watchin’ us all…

[Verse 1]
Dawn break slow on a red dirt lane,
Mist hang low like a whisperin’ rain,
Fence post king in a coat jet black,
Ol’ crow posted up, ain’t cuttin’ no slack.

Head cock sideways like he know my name,
Seen every harvest, every loss, every gain,
Granddaddy said, “Boy, that bird ain’t plain,
That’s a backroad prophet in a feathered frame.”

He ain’t loud for nothin’, every call got weight,
Every caw sound like it carry some fate,
From a cornfield edge to a rusted gate,
He been watchin’ man long before we were great.

[Chorus]
Hey—crow, crow, fly that sky,
Black wing shadow where the truth don’t lie,
From the fence post high to the pine tree line,
That crow see it all, yeah he read that time.

Crow, crow, sharp and slick,
Smarter than a man with a bag full of tricks,
From the sunrise call to the sunset flow—
Man, I tip my hat to that ol’ crow.

[Verse 2]
Now he ain’t no dove with a soft white song,
He a rough-cut truth when the day go wrong,
Pickin’ through the fields where the hard times gone,
Findin’ what’s left, yeah he carry on strong.

Tool in his beak, yeah he work that plan,
Drop that shell, crack it open like a working man,
Adapt, survive—that’s the code he ran,
While the rest of us just tryin’ to understand.

Seen ‘em gather up, yeah a whole black cloud,
Talkin’ that crow talk, gettin’ real damn loud,
Family tight-knit, yeah they proud and proud,
Ride for their own—ain’t that what we ‘bout?

Chorus
Hey—crow, crow, fly that sky,
Black wing shadow where the truth don’t lie,
From the fence post high to the pine tree line,
That crow see it all, yeah he read that time.

Crow, crow, sharp and slick,
Smarter than a man with a bag full of tricks,
From the sunrise call to the sunset flow—
Man, I tip my hat to that ol’ crow.

[Verse 3]
Back porch swing, got a coffee in hand,
Watch that silhouette cross God’s land,
Ain’t flashy, ain’t pretty, but he understand
How to make somethin’ outta nothin’—yeah, just like a man.

He remember faces, yeah he don’t forget,
Cross that crow once, you gon’ carry that debt,
Street-smart bird with a country mindset,
Playin’ life’s game with no safety net.

From the city light buzz to the old dirt road,
He fit right in, yeah he carry that load,
Survivor soul in a black-feathered code,
That crow got a story that ain’t never been told.

[Chorus]
Hey—crow, crow, fly that sky,
Black wing shadow where the truth don’t lie,
From the fence post high to the pine tree line,
That crow see it all, yeah he read that time.

Crow, crow, sharp and slick,
Smarter than a man with a bag full of tricks,
From the sunrise call to the sunset flow—
Man, I tip my hat to that ol’ crow.

[Outro]
Yeah…
Next time you hear that caw cut the air…
Don’t just brush it off…
That’s old wisdom speakin’…
Black wing preacher… still out there teachin’…

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