The cross roads

In a blackening haze of yellow Tornado static, dead heat and air I met the strangest fellow He wore a white cap and played a red cello "Would you care for a game of wit, or dare?" In a blackening haze of yellow With a raucous laugh far from mellow, and a handshake that bade me, beware... I met the strangest fellow Eyes full of lightning, and voice pure bellow At his side, a pregnant dark ruby red mare In a blackening haze of yellow "I don't play games" I said with legs of jello Always the last one to leave the Fair I met the strangest fellow So I said "goodbye" before I said "hello" Not caring for Old~Scratch, nor his flair In a blackening haze of yellow I met the strangest fellow.