| Feel the southern breezes and the southern wind
|
| Blowing down around the corner bend
|
| D’Agostino’s late last night
|
| I saw a boy, fifteen, the road
|
| With nothing in his pockets, his hands to the sky
|
| And nowhere else to go
|
| Can you see it or believe it?
|
| he’s never been
|
| So come with me I’ll show you
|
| Where the dogwoods bloom, it’s true
|
| Lost and found and lost again
|
| To the Honeysuckle Blue
|
| Runnin' through these caverns of gold
|
| Runs a river of death indeed
|
| An old hotel serves as a shelter
|
| For children of the street
|
| Abandoned by the promised land
|
| Set sail on their own
|
| How much longer will the well
|
| Be dry for those who roam?
|
| I got a ticket in my pocket
|
| To send the corner man he’s never been
|
| Have you ever seen the Blue Ridge Mountains, boy?
|
| Or the Chattahoochee or the Honeysuckle Blue?
|
| Lost and found and lost again
|
| To the Honeysuckle Blue |