Under moss strewn palmetto arms
And gothic lanky pines, rivers do flow
To ponds where the burning salamanders roam
Through morning dew and misty chrome
Their tattoos are scars from dirt roads
Violin sound of crickets and toads
Tree-frogs croak on the dot of the dark-thirty
And like alarm clock cardinals chirp
Before breakfast when my eyes are still blurry



Verdant growth of cucumbers and watermelons
Around fishing spots and hoops with all the yellin'
Zapping and smacking blood sucking mosquitos
And capturing lightning bugs in mason jars
Just boys being boys on bikes chasing ice cream trucks
To eat with their fried chicken and corn on the cob
Now that I'm grown what's delicious is different for guys
Its denim painted on tight plump asses and thighs
A view to kill for and so many guns you can count on
So sweltering hot its like Hell pressed to your face
Bound through sprinklers and have a pit-bull race
Chug sweet tea between running the back-woods
In the boondocks through barns and in yard space


When you can taste the scent of honey-suckles
Simply take a whiff of that freshly cut grass
You have to know its summer time in the south
Pork and vinegar aroma, rib-eyes on the grill
Bar-B-Que smoke thankfully drifts around

.......mmmm that smell

Of hushpuppies and sweet potato pies
    Skyscrapers just minutes away
Where building size sunflowers sway
Southern-Rock played through steely guitars
Covered by tin shelter on a screened-in front porch
Protected from heated evening thunderstorms



Dogwoods the first to greet the moonshine
In its own uptown pure country way
Innocence lost on a beautiful day
In a flower-dress next to gnarled oak shade
And a few empty bottles of Yuengling
Off to the side a half eatin' burger with slaw
Butterflys float by when passion becomes raw
Then we roll over on vibrant green knolls
Reminiscing with the breeze and pointing at clouds
What's not to like when your with your love
In your home town and have the sun beaming down