Black Gold Fever

from the album Shotgun Angel

Words and Music by Terry Scott Taylor
©1977 Maranatha! Music

Goin' down to Texas where you can't see the
top of their hats
That's fat-cat country, "Thank you, honey,
put the money in the sack"
Makin' oil my middle name, gonna play the rich man's game
Goin' down to Texas, I'm ready, Paul Getty step back

I've got the black gold fever and my
temperature's runnin' high
You've got to quench your thirst
when your mouth is cotton dry
And just like the preacher's call, I've gotta go, that's all
I want black gold livin', I'm givin' my luck a try

"Black gold fever", my momma said
"Will leave you flat and cold and probably dead
Listen to your heart and not your head, boy
I'm prayin' you get that gospel fever instead"

Well, I hear the "clickity-clack" of the railroad track
Goin' down there, son, where the gold is black
Though somethin's tellin' me somethin' ain't right
Put the Bible back on the shelf
Said, son get a hold of yourself
You want black gold livin' there ain't no lookin' back

Well, I cancelled my order when I crossed over
And the train hit the border line
And my Bible-beltin' momma and the words she spoke
Now suddenly came to mind
And then the words she spoke to me
They brought me to my ever-lovin' knees
That's when I left that black gold fever forever behind

"Black gold fever", my momma said
"Will leave you flat and cold and probably dead"
So I listened to my heart and not my head
Now I've got that Gospel fever
Got that Gospel fever
Got that Gospel fever, praise God, instead!


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