Cottonwood the summer snow
Spanish moss on light wind blows
The grass grows fast and life is slow
Lightning bugs our cinema show
Beale Street Memphis and New Orleans
“Are you with the Baptists or Presbyterians?”
Take you for real barbecue
Tiny places I’ve poured my heart into
Family owned coffee shops and downtown streets
Lyrics we scream in crowded backseats
The familiar scent of summer chlorine
Grandmother’s homemade sweet tea
Thick but sweet like honey, a southern accent sings
A porch swing hangs by boots and miscellaneous things
Hydrangea tips and cobbler recipes the women’s book club’s fuss
A piercing pinch from a mother's hand if she ever hears you cuss
Rivers and forests that hold my childhood
Moss soaked in fairies and knighthood
Fishing spots and four wheel drives
Sunset skies the color of your eyes
Run barefoot in tall “feather” grass
“Not-for-nighttime” narrow paths
White washed bricks older than the magnolias
Ladies with pearls, hairspray, and strollers
Football games with roaring joy
It’s an experience that makes you want to join
Red, black and white; 90 degrees
A mid-fall breeze, its nights like these
Spring Green Markets on a freshly cut lawn
Candles and jams and fresh kettle corn
Homecoming and Christmas parades you just can’t miss
Lights strung downtown in the winter
It doesn’t get much better than this...
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 3:20 PM UTC
Cottonwood the summer snow
Spanish moss on light wind blows
The grass grows fast and life is slow
Lightning bugs our cinema show
Beale Street Memphis and New Orleans
“Are you with the Baptists or Presbyterians?”
Take you for real barbecue
Tiny places I’ve poured my heart into
Family owned coffee shops and downtown streets
Lyrics we scream in crowded backseats
The familiar scent of summer chlorine
Grandmother’s homemade sweet tea
Thick but sweet like honey, a southern accent sings
A porch swing hangs by boots and miscellaneous things
Hydrangea tips and cobbler recipes the women’s book club’s fuss
A piercing pinch from a mother's hand if she ever hears you cuss
Rivers and forests that hold my childhood
Moss soaked in fairies and knighthood
Fishing spots and four wheel drives
Sunset skies the color of your eyes
Run barefoot in tall “feather” grass
“Not-for-nighttime” narrow paths
White washed bricks older than the magnolias
Ladies with pearls, hairspray, and strollers
Football games with roaring joy
It’s an experience that makes you want to join
Red, black and white; 90 degrees
A mid-fall breeze, its nights like these
Spring Green Markets on a freshly cut lawn
Candles and jams and fresh kettle corn
Homecoming and Christmas parades you just can’t miss
Lights strung downtown in the winter
It doesn’t get much better than this...
I wrote this about my little small town I still like to call home. There’s a lot of it that also just represents my love and comfort of the south in general. There’s nothing else like it; it really doesn’t get much better than that and I truly believe that. The people around me that I love, remind me of home. People and home give me the same feeling and I truly believe that there’s a fine line to separate the two. You can travel anywhere in the world to exotic beaches and castles in Europe, but you’re never going to get that same feeling that you would in a small southern town...
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