Down in the colored section of Cleveland Mississippi
Ted ‘Heavy Hand’ Johnson plays guitar on the porch of his rundown shotgun shack
His fingers are worn tuff by 54 years of manual labor
Now they are only used to play the blues on his old guitar, stained with whisky, and with two bullet holes through it
As his fingers jump around the frets, he taps his shoes against the steps, infested with termites
He is dressed modestly in an undershirt and slacks however, everything is dripping with sweat
It’s a hot day, too hot for his hound dog who lays as still as he can be beside Heavy Hand on the shady porch
Flies buzz around Heavy Hand and his dog, as he continues to play those ruff blues cords
Suddenly the hound dog jumps up and starts barking at a man walking up the dirt road to Heavy Hand’s house
The man is dressed real sharp in a three piece, pin striped suit, but he, like Heavy Hand, is sweating
Only the dog barks, both men remain silent
Heavy Hand only looks on, not focusing on the white man in a suit that is walking up to his house
Slowly the white man pulls out a small silver pistol, and opens up three rounds on Heavy Hand
Five heroin needles role out of his front pocket, as he falls to the ground bleeding profusely
They all seemed to know it was coming
Except for the dog
Who continues barking and whines as his master dies,
shot down on the ground