You can't rush a still's chemistry.
Mountain folks know all about
revenuers and they're reaching
for our wallets. Taxes is just a
word for robbery. Leave us to
ourselves. We scratch a living
from the rocky soil and barely
eat from day to day. We dance
to banjos and fiddles and love
in the hayloft to sow our seeds.
Our mountains cradle our hearts.
Hardscrabble is our legacy.
We have hearts of coal
and love our mountain!

I was trying to catch her eye
when a bus happened along
so I caught that and
I'm happy I got home safely.

and now it's dark
I hear the ogres auguring
but cannot see them in the gloom,

in my room, a castle stands,
a monument to me and
I'm still thinking of catching her eye.

It's the little things. Second hands in school
  clocks like hammers striking anvils too loud.
  Bored seconds are forever. Years later are now.
  We argue about everything. I'm always the fool.

  I fret over this old typewriter's ancient keys.
  I look for perfect words to write perfect rhymes
  that refuse to be born. I miss the simple times,
  young me at bedtime begging god on my knees.