Just guitar at first: dry, close, and already moving fast.

The first words put him at the crossroad and down on his knees, with the guitar still answering in short bites.

When the opening line comes back, it doesn't feel settled; the same image is being worked again by voice and hand.

Now the prayer is plain: mercy, and poor Bob asking to be saved.

That ooh opens the next scene, still at the road, trying to flag a ride.

The ride line returns, but the guitar keeps it wiry instead of giving it an easy stride.

Everybody passing by lands quickly, almost without room to complain.

The sun-going-down line changes the pressure: same small forces, but now time is in the words.

Here the loneliness turns personal, and the vocal stretches it over the same hard guitar motion.

The Willie Brown message sends the song outward, like a warning passed along while the pulse keeps hurrying.

The message comes back shorter, and the guitar still leaves very little cushion around the voice.

At the end he's back at the crossroad, but now the line drops straight into sinking down.

There isn't a grand close. The performance just lets go and disappears.