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Fried chicken, beans and taters, and shoo-fly pie for afters
then took me to a snoozin’ some whilst waitin’ for the moon.
On the porch where I in keepin’ with evenin’ in its sleepin’
an’ the weepin’ willers weepin’, a melancholy tune.
Awoken, the jitters, mid the hum of wingin’ critters;
they’d rouse ya from yer slumber like them bankers rise yer blood.
Twixt them an’ I beratin’, to liquor, I’d be takin’,
to calm me consternation till me protests understood.
Mellowed in me bourbon, to observe without disturbin’
the stars when they appearin’ in a mess of stippled light.
An’ the moon, she took to risin’ out yon, the far horizon,
sure who’d be criticisin’ such a splendid summer’s night.
I chewed me some tobaccy as would have done me pappy;
still miss him some, for he up gone a long, long time ago.
Mama too, the same old way, broke pa’s heart or so they say,
buried them beneath the clay where the weepin’ willers grow.
’Twas I, who left in needin’ in the remnants of me grievin’,
the mule an’ I, the hoe an’ scythe to till this blessed land.
Though dress me evenin’s easy; whatever comes, let please me,
if the reaper comes to seize me, well, I shall understand.
I who of the moment in the mellow moon’s atonement,
for wait I not, the morrow comes when I may be no more.
Remember well, that lonesome cry, was lost on me ownsome, I,
when she, as if like flotsam, aye, washed up upon me shore.
Dressed in cloths of calico, all the way from Mexico,
a maiden rare, a songstress and a lover of the moon.
She took me hand an’ wedded me, pledged, loved an’ bedded me,
when fevers came, she dead from me an’ buried her too soon.
I’ll take me head to pillow for I the weary fellow,
for much to much a thinkin’ ’bout, ’twould sink a man too deep.
Yet deep is the sadness though I won’t allow the madness,
remember them with gladness, let the weepin’ willers weep.
then took me to a snoozin’ some whilst waitin’ for the moon.
On the porch where I in keepin’ with evenin’ in its sleepin’
an’ the weepin’ willers weepin’, a melancholy tune.
Awoken, the jitters, mid the hum of wingin’ critters;
they’d rouse ya from yer slumber like them bankers rise yer blood.
Twixt them an’ I beratin’, to liquor, I’d be takin’,
to calm me consternation till me protests understood.
Mellowed in me bourbon, to observe without disturbin’
the stars when they appearin’ in a mess of stippled light.
An’ the moon, she took to risin’ out yon, the far horizon,
sure who’d be criticisin’ such a splendid summer’s night.
I chewed me some tobaccy as would have done me pappy;
still miss him some, for he up gone a long, long time ago.
Mama too, the same old way, broke pa’s heart or so they say,
buried them beneath the clay where the weepin’ willers grow.
’Twas I, who left in needin’ in the remnants of me grievin’,
the mule an’ I, the hoe an’ scythe to till this blessed land.
Though dress me evenin’s easy; whatever comes, let please me,
if the reaper comes to seize me, well, I shall understand.
I who of the moment in the mellow moon’s atonement,
for wait I not, the morrow comes when I may be no more.
Remember well, that lonesome cry, was lost on me ownsome, I,
when she, as if like flotsam, aye, washed up upon me shore.
Dressed in cloths of calico, all the way from Mexico,
a maiden rare, a songstress and a lover of the moon.
She took me hand an’ wedded me, pledged, loved an’ bedded me,
when fevers came, she dead from me an’ buried her too soon.
I’ll take me head to pillow for I the weary fellow,
for much to much a thinkin’ ’bout, ’twould sink a man too deep.
Yet deep is the sadness though I won’t allow the madness,
remember them with gladness, let the weepin’ willers weep.
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