You were always right,
‘Bout the Needle and the Damage Done,
‘Bout the beauty of the country sun
And the country man making way
In rock ‘n roll gold.
Had I waited out the hurricane
And set my sights on shore,
I wouldn’t be the broken love song,
A record running revolutions—
a woman on the run.
Listen here ,
The old man in my heart,
Don’t cry cuz your daughter’s done wrong,
She’ll come around in the end.
She’ll make you proud—
Proud as any son.
Oh Southern Man,
Let those licks rip and roar
Let them shield you
From the black black gun–
I know you seen it too,
In wraiths calling out for quarters
When you haven’t none.
It’s the scream that won’t come,
This silence, a plague on the tongue
Of every artist in step with a dream
And the nightmares yet to languish
With the set of a burnt-out sun.
You’ve seen it all.
What follows the drown of a sound wave?
Can you tell me, old man,
Tell me when it comes?