From Tobacco Sunburst (2004)
Woke up one morning,
my head still swimming dreams.
I glimpsed a lovely lady;
the artist of a charming scene.
She paints in colors
and always works alone.
Her name is Alabama
and she calls the harvest home.
She nudged me on
And I walked into the story
Of cinnamon cemeteries
Winesap apple glories
Row by row she lined the fields
With broken stalks and such
When mother nature make the way
Who could want for much
Harvest the colors of Autumn Alabama
Orange and garnet and gold
Mother Nature paints with Autumn Alabama
So that nothing but the sky grows old.
She told me don’t believe that winter’s too bewitching
You can hear what lives inside if you’ll only listen
When that wind turns the city thin
And neon lights announce
Zero’s the bone—old man winter’s in the house
I let my mind go back to autumn Alabama
Such patience sets the stage for spring and all that glamour.