Down by the Bayou

Wind a’howling
Down by the bayou
Gators sticking to their mudholes
It smells of rot
Green turned brown
Down by the bayou
That’s where I’m from

We shoot at the coons
Never at the moon
Only a fool would fancy hisself a star
Or wish upon one
We eat corn fritters and fish galore
Ain’t nothing better for strong bones
Except maybe the mud that tastes of home

They tell all about the nutritional value of dirt
Full o’ zinc and calcium and such
Mother Earth takes care of her own
We don’t need no supplements
But hush! Keep your mouth shut
Don’t want The Man to package it
And take it out from under our feet

Tourists flock to experience
Spanish moss and mythical flowers
Deep in the heart of the bayou
We don’t get lost in her durga arms
Numberless and fierce
Protection and abundance flow
From our river goddess

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