under the kudzu

well i live all alone in chickasaw county, out on the 109, where the rundown barns and rusty tractors, are covered in kudzu vine, now for 85 years my people raised cotton, 'til granddaddy lost this land, now we're scattered all over this end of the state, gettin' by anyway that we can, but. under the kudzu, the mighty south lies sleepin', dreamin' of glory, that slowly slipped away, and on nights like this, boys, i can almost hear her weepin', out there under the kudzu, if you follow that hot tar road down to jackson, you'll pass through plantersville, that's where i worked and spent my money, until they closed down the mill, i got real bad to-drinks and my sweet samantha, packed up her things and moved, i hear she's a qualified beautician, workin' down in baton rouge, and. yes i walk on over to the pit stop market, and buy me a coke to drink, i lay on the hood of this old camaro, and wait for the sun to sink, on nights like this, boys, i can almost hear her weepin', out there under the kudzu, out there under the kudzu