I'd love to take a boxcar to Chattanooga ..
Life in Macon is a cold , wicked , selfish game of accrual ..
A village of lust for paper tokens , pressed coin and ***** diesel engines .. If I could get to carefree Tennessee the millionaires would call on me ,
the Governor would seek my favor , good mountain people would call me their neighbor !
O' to be in Cincinnati by summer ! The queen of the Buckeye state by the banks of the Ohio .. This town is for lovers and artisans , a city of dreamers and poets unlike greedy , frosted Chattanooga with it's earthly ******* and mean spirited city folk ...
My return to southern charm ..I pray to be in Macon by the light of the Moon ..By the fragrant Magnolia ! These yankees have no time for a man of my good quality and distinction , busy with their daily toil and cold hearted drudgery .. I long for the shade tree , the sunny scape and a feather bed to lay my weary head ...
When the afternoon freight car bound for Atlanta leaves the Macon station I should hitch a ride to a more hospitable location ...