Play It Slower - Southern Trees | Текст песни

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• Play It Slower
• Southern Trees

An Ice age has melted before me

and 10 years has been way too long.

And I’d say I would come right home to you

but beyond Mason-Dixon I am lost.

I’d reach out and grab the past before me

But nostalgia’s choking out my thoughts


Abbeville: the birthplace of my name


Blown off the course of azalea roads

And I’m stuck here in the sands

Breathe out a warm summer wind

I’m waiting till the sun goes down again

Abbeville: the birthplace of my name

Virginia is calling out

Atlanta, Georgia is doing the very, very same

Virginia is calling out

The Carolinas are doing the very, very same


I’ll float down the James

From Richmond to Rockbridge

I carry a heavy weight

My southern blood is what I bleed

With southern trees watching over me

A Carolina Wren

Was perched at the top of a wooden fence

A sad song it sang

As your procession pushed through the rain

I am assured of my history

I am unsure of its destiny

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