Those fingers in my hair That sly come hither stare That strips my conscience bare It's witchcraft And I've got no defense for it The heat is too intense for it What good would common sense for it do 'Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft And

Those fingers in my hair That sly come hither stare That strips my conscience bare It's witchcraft And I've got no defense for it The heat is too intense for it What good would common sense for it do 'Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft And

Tomorrow I ride at dawn Like my father And his father And his father before Watched the soil burn with fire War after war Done things I didn't know I could For the common good Give a man a hundred years