Arkansas - Sunday at 10-37 AM

jaronchilds

Mountain Song

Went to the city from Arkansas
I wanted to be everything that I saw
Don’t you believe the nice things you hear
People in the city’d lick the fat from your beard

Red red river where nobody goes
So full of iron it’s like a bloody nose
You’re never gonna get it out of your clothes
I think you’re gonna find that’s the way that it goes

Snow on the mountain, rain on the moss
Moon shows the way on the fields that I cross
I make a shadow wherever I stand
I guess that we all leave our mark on the land

I cannot tell the word from the breeze
I keep on trying to dance on my knees
I can’t forget all the things that I’ve done
Something is out there a’clickin’ its tongue