O, Lord, let me be reborn
into the music of a country band.
I want the country sound
to wrap itself around me
like the arms of a loving woman
so that I can heal my wounds
in its earthy light.

I have wandered too long
in the sideshow.
I cannot tell my own face
from the freaks.
My sight has been twisted
by the venom in my blood.

I want the country sound
to resurrect the dying flowers.
I want to follow butterflies
bullfrogs and turtles, and listen
to the soft mad music of the mist.
I have been stumbling too long
through cynical clouds and Platonic caves.
My mouth is full of mockery,
my faith has turned to dust.
I want to fill up my soul
with greens and golds
and lose myself
in the poetry of spring.

O, God, when I die
please make a fiddle of my flesh
and a bow of my bones
then send me on to Nashville
to be born again
into the music of a country band.