Betty Buckley
I Am a Town
I'm a town in Carolina, I'm a detour on a rideFor a phone call and a soda, I'm a blur from the driver's sideI'm the last gas for an hour if you're going twenty-fiveI am Texaco and tobacco, I am dust you leave behindI am peaches in September, and corn from a roadside stallI'm the language of the natives, I'm a cadence and a drawlI'm the pines behind the graveyard, and the cool beneath their shade, where the boys have left their beer cansI am weeds between the graves.My porches sag and lean with old black men and childrenTheir sleep is filled with dreams, I never can fulfill themI am a town.I am a church beside the highway where the ditches never drainI'm a Baptist like my daddy, and Jesus knows my nameI am memory and stillness, I am lonely in old age; I am not your destinationI am clinging to my waysI am a town.I'm a town in Carolina, I am billboards in the fieldsI'm an old truck up on cinder blocks, missing all my wheelsI am Pabst Blue Ribbon, American, and "Southern Serves the South"I am tucked behind the Jaycees sign, on the rural routeI am a townI am a townI am a townSouthbound.
From Letras Mania