Never wanted to be associated with it.
Yet it’s all I ever pray for. I track it like squeeeeaaaals
off in the woods. Pulls both ways like a redneck finger trap.
(Deliverance Theme continued)
Hillbilly prophets try to pray me back home. Flights to the south,
deep fried. They want to celebrate me home, but all they do is burn me at the
Ridicule plays second base. Ump screams “YOURRR’RRRE OUT “. “Hey, I
thought I was safe here”. Automatic out
Uncle’s trailer! “Damn boy you write a mean poem, but you should get into a real trade like
right wing heating and air or join the Union of the Klan, they got a fine string of
Flyaway. Thinking backwoods. Driving back home. Hmmm, never considered L.A.
a safety zone.