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.