Morning's gone And the TV's on Been raining for a week There's coffee cans And an old box fan Floating in the creek No better time To ride the line Ain't seen the law in days It's your own town When the mountain sounds This Appalachia haze
Well, Bobby dreams On the back porch swing We keep an eye on him He's counting all The basketballs Brushing past the limbs And remembers when He was only ten They left the homestead crazed In that busted Ford Just a-flying towards This Appalachia haze
And Sarah goes When the whiskey flows Says she goes too hard There's plastic pets And a blue swing set Rusted in the yard Said, "Oh, that child She was always wild Set in her own ways" Sleeps downtown With her arms around That Appalachia haze
And here comes John With his buttons on He's optimistic still Stand in the rain For a good campaign They tell him how he feels Said "You see They're just like me We're in for the glory days" The saviors come To lead us from This Appalachia haze
Now they're cutting pines And power lines And I watch the gutter drain Down every ridge There's a washed out bridge Covered up in cane But I've got a friend Just around the bend - You oughta hear her play I pick along While she hammers on This Appalachia hazeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.