| They took more than time from you
|
| Down in Tennessee
|
| Where the land rolls rusted
|
| And kudzu strangles the trees in green
|
| Deformed like you by medicinal bonds
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| Blameless but shrouded in shame
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| They gave you more than bruises
|
| Down in Tennessee
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| Where the mountains loom lumpen
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| Some storm-cursed earthen sea
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| Root-sewn to your bed
|
| Where sweat stained wood and stone
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| Your shrinks sentenced you to labor in the loam
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| Tending the falsehoods you’d carry back home
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| They held you down
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| And peeled ripelike back
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| The curl-crested crown of a child
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| Planted their alien seeds
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| Cruel furrows in trusting clay
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| And we blessed those bastards
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| For the nostrums they sold us
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| The prayers they passed off as your cure
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| Your work raised you from that riverbank hell
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| Where out of love we damned you to dwell
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| Take pride in the scars they carved in you
|
| For in their depths, a secret strength grew
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| Unbowed it abides inside
|
| As you forge your faraway life
|
| That strange iron guide you dragged up
|
| From beneath the hills down in Tennessee
|
| Where the land rolls rusted
|
| And kudzu strangles the trees in green |