For An Old Kentucky Anarchist

High upon a forgotten mountaintop

Lay a garden untended and dry

'Twas a yard that hadn't felt children's feet running

For the mother long ago taught her children how to fly

Within a simple cabin, untouched by industrial hands

Sat the aged mother in her home

You can't escape the picture frames, there's too many, she said

They keep me from being alone

Well, she spoke, he was an honest man

He worked hard to put food on our plates

Well, we had more babies than we had arms

We struggled all our lives, but the rewards were great

And when my son came home from the war

He rested his head on my breast

And said, ma, I'm tired of being used and grinded down

I feel so low

Can you make me feel like I'm the best?

Well, my best friend truly wed a savage man

He wore her like a bad tattoo

For his only love was for a bottle

She said, there's only one thing left for me to do

To be wild once again, to take back my life

To run away

Set flames to his truck

He won't ever know what he's been missing

I did every day

Joy, freedom, dance and love

Yeah, dance and love

These are the stories that this mother spoke to me

As I brought her garden back to grow

I was rewarded with a warm meal

Tales never to be heard

Some call it poverty, but they'll never know

She said, all I got's my stories and this old guitar

My crops have all come and gone away

I got a head fulla recipes

Enticing to the taste

And a liking to wake up and greet the day

Got a bad back from raising my children

From hugging my husband so tight

Hell, I never cared much for any government

I got my Jesus when I feel the time is right

Singing, I'm the richest I'll ever be

I embrace the world I have all around me

So sing a dying song and slap your knee

Have a taste of true anarchy