Lucinda Williams
Louisiana Story
In the Deep South when I was growing up
Looking back on the sweetness, looking back on the rough
The sun going down, crickets at night
Lawnmower sounds and mosquito bites
Swattin' at a fly, hearing the neighbors talk
So hot you could fry an egg on the sidewalk
Outside playing barefoot in the street
Tar would be sticking to the bottom of my feet
Running and chasing after the ice cream wagon
"Mama, can I have a quarter so that I can get me one?"
On a good day Mama'd make us sweet coffee milk
On bad days she cussed when something got spilled
And Daddy taught the Bible, Lake Charles to Monroe
Shreveport to Slidell, Baton Rouge to Thibodaux
He chewed tobacco and spit out in a can
All the while hollering, "Don't let the screen door slam"
Her daddy's kind didn't spare the rod
Blinded by the fear and the wrath of the Lord
He'd call her a sinner, say, "you're going to hell"
Now finish your dinner and tell 'em you fell
And when the blood came, her mama told her
She was unclean and her mama would scold her
Mama always felt Christian guilt
And then put to bed under a homemade quilt
God knows it rains in Louisiana
But not enough to wash away the sins of the father
And God knows Mama loved her daughter
And they say that blood is thicker than water
Down in the Deep South when I was growing up
Looking back on the sweetness, looking back on the rough