Kindred Spirits

[good4somethingbum]

Kindred SpiritsHe grew up in Tennessee where, restless rivers wind and bendSweet magnolias spice the mountains, and weed whiskey from the windHe’d park his old primered Chevy, down by the red covered bridgePractice his guitar for hours, as it echoed off the ridgeThat country boy loved Keith Whitley and his haunted lyricsCos him and that lonesome cowboy, were like kindred spiritsShe lived in a tin-roof farmin’ shackWhen her dad passed out with his jug of JackShe’d met that boy down by the covered bridgeBut when she got home her old manWaited with a Bible in his handReady to whip her with a sapling switchFaith should soothe the heart but she learned to fear itCos whiskey and the Holy Ghost, ain’t no kindred spiritsOne night she was serenaded, by her lover’s soulful tunesThen he saw the purple bruises, by the pale light of the moonWell, he busted that shack’s door down, with a sawed-off twenty gaugeAnd her daddy met the devil, bourbon on his Good Book’s pageThat shot rolled like thunder, neighbors were bound to hear itBut by then him and his girl, were like kindred spiritsThose country roads soon flooded with copsSome say those crazy kids would’ve stoppedBut that old bridge was covered in mistGoin’ over ninety in the darkHe leaned across the seat of that carThey went into that river with an eternal kissForever was painless cos they didn’t fear itSometimes love and death, are like kindred spiritsHis old guitar was all they foundRumors and legends in river townsSay they hadda know that bridge was condemnedYoung lovers still park on that ridgeAnd make love in that covered bridgeSome say they hear voices on the windLover’s moans and songs with lonesome lyricsCos that bridge is haunted, by two kindred spirits©2007 Robert George