Southern Gothic

[good4somethingbum]

Southern GothicI’ve hopped Southern Pacifics, hitchhiked n hoboedDealt Hold ‘em on a Crescent City showboatAnd I’ve seen full moons risin’, above the St. Looey archesThey’re midnight beacons for, the Old Man’s moonshine bargesI’ve heard the ghosts of rustlers, haunting Austin ranchesWhere dead oaks dot the prairies, with rotted lynching branchesThough I’ve never seen the Taj Mahal, or the treasures of RomeI can say I’ve seen it all, Cos I’ve wandered aloneThrough Southern GothicI’ve smelled Magnolia evenings, sweet as fresh papayaSaw blue rivers run like veins, across a Texas playaHeard a poor farmer’s prayer, a-climbin’ Jacob’s LadderFaith and grain will help, his winter hogs grow fatterMining widows in old mud shacks, high in the Shenandoah’sWhere graveyard roads shoulder buzzards like feather boasThough I’ve never seen the Taj Mahal, or the treasures of RomeI can say I’ve seen it all, Cos I’ve wandered aloneThrough Southern GothicHeard Guy Clark sing “Randall Knife”, in a Brownsville cantinaSatchmo’s ghost in Storyville, blowing for KatrinaAnd I’ve read clever rhymes, carved in slabs of graniteBut rhymes sure ain’t the reason, for time on this planetNo…to live’s to cover ground, to touch n taste and travelBefore we die and cover ground, like dust n ash n gravelThough I’ve never seen the Taj Mahal, or the treasures of RomeI can say I’ve seen it all, Cos I’ve wandered aloneThrough Southern Gothic…through Southern Gothic…©2007 Robert George

[good4somethingbum]

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