in the deep deep south
where the rivers run like veins
emptying the mountains cloudy mist
or they bleed a deep deep red
like the clay
like the ground beneath your shoes
like your clueless morning blues

sipping your tea
with a bit of lemon peel
drinking your lemonade
without a cube of ice

under the sweet pale Georgia moon
she's dancing
she swings and twists
and looks into my eyes

where have you been my whole life
i think as she walks closer
what shall i say
and my feet stick to the pavement
knees weak
it's everything i can do to hold
my insides in

and not a word is said
as she takes my hand
and leads me to the street

where my sweet sweet southern belle
parades down yellow lines
pulls me along and to her bedroom
where the night takes its wings
and sweeps away the dust