In the beginning was the Word, and the small naked earth heard it.
Hollers and graves were carved out, men and mounds raised up from it.
Before long, strangers crossed oceans, and double-crossed every damn body.
And before long, the mounds were laid bare, and strip malls were put on top.
And the strangers brought others in the bows of their freighter ships,
And this fearful land was built under that whining infant nation's whips.
Before long, they tried to tell these old boys down here just how to do things.
We dug in to our sin till we were drinking muddy water and eating shoestrings.
Let us now praise it—
What's good and gone,
The screen door swinging,
The porch light on.
Let us now praise it—
What's pure and past,
Folks being folks,
First being last.
And we, now, the sons of the hardened hearts who signed it all away,
And all the hardened heads who filled all those unmarked graves,
Will sip cold tea whose leaves were picked betwixt firing squads in Sudan,
Sweetened with sugar chopped by bleeding Brazilian hands, and say, "Ain't life
Grand!"
Let us now praise it—
What's good and gone,
The screen door swinging,
The porch light on.
Let us now praise it—
What's pure and past,
Folks being folks,
First being last.
So, gather around all ye wicked ones who wouldn't touch the stuff you're selling.
Come all y'all shallow-chested cowards who wheeze with pleas for proof.
Granddaddy taught unto me the difference between telling a story and
One is bearing false witness; the other is baring more truth than the truth.