Crowley's Ridge (Patreon)

My folks were hillbillies, from Arkansas,
And I guess I’m one too, ‘cause I was born on Crowley’s Ridge.
It ain’t much of a hill, just a thousand feet high and half a thousand miles long,
Curving through three states first away from then back to the river.
And if you have to ask which river, then you ain’t from West Memphis,
But there you go.

My folks lived in the mountains and I lived down in the city.
We didn’t see each other as often as we might like
‘Cause it was a two-hour drive in heavy traffic between us.
But there’s a kind of hillbilly wisdom passed down by word of mouth,
And at the end of one summer when I had gone to visit my folks,
My Daddy called me aside to tell me something important.

He said…

Don't wait till the fields are brown to come and see us again.
 You never know what the harvest may bring.
 Don't wait to patch the roof till it's pouring down rain.
 You don't need to learn the blues to want to sing.

You'll never keep a bitter wind out
 With nothing but a corncob and a piece of string.
 Don't keep your voices down, make your joy out loud.
 You've got a right to let the rafters ring.
 And you don't need to learn the blues to want to sing.

Don't wait till the fields are white to come and see us again.
 You never know what the winter might bring.
 When that wind from the mountain blows, we all feel a bit of pain.
 But you don't need to learn the blues to want to sing.

You'll never keep the winter wind out
 With nothing but a corncob and a piece of string.
 Let the neighbors know, sing your joy out loud.
 Don't fear to make the rafters ring.
 'Cause you don't need to learn the blues to want to sing.

Don't wait till the fields are green to come and see me again.
 You never know what the summer will bring.
 When you hear that hearse rolling by, it's too late to call my name.
 But you don't need to learn the blues to want to sing.

You'll never keep the summer rain out
 With nothing but a corncob and a piece of string.
 The only joy that shows is to sing it loud.
 You've got to make those rafters ring.
 'Cause you don't need to know the blues to want to sing.