Southern Oak

Southern Oak
Jeb Barry and the Pawn Shop Saints texas, etc… jeb@jebbarry.com www.jebbarry.com
I’m not from around here
That’s obvious to most
Still everybody friendly
Not one Confederate ghost
I fell for a Georgia girl
I fell for the way she talked
Passing through this town I never left
Thank god for getting lost

Like the southern oak, out in that pasture
I could stand alone
Or put down roots with her, call this home

I’m starting to get an accent
And a taste for bourdon and sweet tea
I’m getting used to hearing y’all
But not this wicked summer heat

Like that southern oak….

And the kids, they’ll know their family names
Even the stories that are sad
They’ll know to leave those bones alone, when the past in the past

Hurricanes come all too often
She never gave a thought to move
That old tree’s still standing straight I guess
Hell and high water makes good roots