Black Jesus

I was eighteen working on a road crew in Georgia
He was a Vietnam vet from Tennessee
He held the post while I drove the hammer
Side by side, rain or shine, five days a week

And he taught me the blues
And I'd sing for him, old Jim Croce tunes
And he'd say, "Boy, the only difference between us
Is your white and my black Jesus"

Well, the pay, it was barely legal
And I wasted mine on Marlboros and booze
And his went to his woman and his children
And the rest he bet on anything that moved

And he taught me the blues
And I'd sing for him, old Marshall Tucker tunes
And he'd say, "Boy, the only difference between us
Is your white and my black Jesus"

Well, I woke last night to the sound of thunder
And my mind drifted back to that old man
Well, I ain't seen him since I left Georgia
But something tells me we'll meet again

'Cause he taught me the blues
And I'd sing for him, old Allman Brothers tunes
And he'd say, "Boy, the only difference between us
Is your white and my black Jesus"

When we meet again, there'll be nothing between us
It'll just be him, me and Jesus