Jim Casey Prays for Tippecanoe

I got thinkin’ how Tippecanoe division was  holy when we it was one thing, an’ mankin’ was holy when it was one thing. An’ it on’y got unholy when one mis’able little fella got the bit in his teeth an’ run off his own way, kickin’ an’ draggin’ an’ fightin’, jes like Horton Heat. Fella like that bust the holi-ness. But when they’re all workin’ together, not one fella for another fella, but one fella kind of harnessed to the whole shebang—that’s right, that’s holy, like yer Wilco or yer Lou Reed.

 Now I ain't a say'n that all ye critters should look toward this division for light and holiness, but if all man kind and all dem famblies want to feel like, well... Remember when we all et those pan bones, and crispy parts of the hog we slaughtered afore we set out? It's like that see. Sometimes ya gotta slip Grandpa a little dark medicine to get him a-goin' and sometimes he jes shows up.   I aint really a preacher no more, but by God, let's all pray for Tippecanoe, and pass me some mo that pan a bones, extra crispy.