Finer than Jesus, higher than a Georgia pine sitting dark on the divan yours is yours and mine is mine I kept to myself for some time begging to beggars wearin out my shoes same song on loop Yellow finger tips and an unread book I pray to the blues Lonesome means a helluva lot to someone, somewhere as much as it means to me I’ve fought for this plot once fathered by daddy Claxton A land that many forgot, certainly Jackson stood still and stoned Blistered feet and foam-covered lungs my overbearing father to dethrone making me speak in tongues I died a million miles later On a hilltop overlooking Algonquin
