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Where Angels Fear To Tread (Guadalcanal Diary)

Black clad preacher on a mountain road Lifts his voice in tongues unknown Barefoot dancing on burning coals Covered by the night Backwoods firewater jubilee Believers dance of victory The lame can walk, the blind can see Step into the light With torch aloft and eyes aglow Gaze into the fire below Drawn by something they don't know Fools rush in where angels fear to tread Rattlesnake coiled in a young girl's arms Green eyes flashing in the dark Spirits keep their own from harm Faithful to the end Blind man standing on a narrow ledge, Balanced on a knife edge He comes to judge the quick and dead, Forever and amen Swaying gently to and fro The valley of death that yawns below Call to them and want to know Fools rush in where angels fear to tread White clad preacher with a house of gold Wrings his hands and bares his soul He knows the tears go with the role Join in the crusade Swept away by angel choirs Give in to their strange desires Cast your faith into the fire