Goin' Back Home - Lucinda Williams

In the Deep South when I was growing up

Looking back on the sweetness, looking back on the rough

The sun going down, crickets at night

Lawnmower sounds and mosquito bites

Swattin' at a fly, hearing the neighbors talk

So hot you could fry an egg on the sidewalk

Outside playing barefoot in the street

Tar would be sticking to the bottom of my feet

Running and chasing after the ice cream wagon

«Mama, can I have a quarter so that I can get me one?»

On a good day Mama’d make us sweet coffee milk

On bad days she cussed when something got spilled

And Daddy taught the Bible, Lake Charles to Monroe

Shreveport to Slidell, Baton Rouge to Thibodaux

He chewed tobacco and spit out in a can

All the while hollering, «Don't let the screen door slam»

Her daddy’s kind didn’t spare the rod

Blinded by the fear and the wrath of the Lord

He’d call her a sinner, say, «you're going to hell»

Now finish your dinner and tell 'em you fell

And when the blood came, her mama told her

She was unclean and her mama would scold her

Mama always felt Christian guilt

And then put to bed under a homemade quilt

God knows it rains in Louisiana

But not enough to wash away the sins of the father

And God knows Mama loved her daughter

And they say that blood is thicker than water

Down in the Deep South when I was growing up

Looking back on the sweetness, looking back on the rough