Southern United States
I had a dream I was standing beneath the Memphis moon
With William Blake painting and Crosby crooning
And his father was a sailor
Who left his mother young, and so she dressed him the same
He took after his father, without the last name
A Welshman from Tennessee
Who spoke with an accent that resembled no other
Cut from the cloth, he showed me his daughter
And Lilly was a Rose
Married into money but it only changed her clothes
With her eyes hair closed and her hands arisen
She leaned into talk and leaned in to listen
She said those political songs they’re worth missing

I awoke at the wheel
With the wind, road and radio fluttering in my ears
I was following my heart like I hadn’t for years
I put on Lou Reed’s Berlin
I had a friend once that asked me..”
Who needs Berlin?”
“well”, I said, “I guess it depends on the state that you’re in.”
I was stopped at the border
I don’t know what they thought I had but by the end, I’d had it
Low Texas drawl coming over the static
I looked up at the bristling stars and they looked so sad it was the
Southern United States