On a South Carolina backroad

in the summer of ’03

I’d been visiting with a friend

who had a sister in a trailer

and no neighbors that I could see

She offered beer and a brownie

They both smelled a little funny

but I wasn’t known for being picky

She played a song about a levee

my head got a little heavy

so I went outside to catch the breeze

Down the road beyond the chickens and the briars

past the tire fires and barbed wire

past the point that I could see

I heard a sound like a drumming

and a guitar, strings a-burning

sound of bass like a rising beast

I heard a voice in a trance

It got me on my feet to dance

down the road

to see what I could see

I walked along for two hot miles

the sound so far away and steady

I crossed fields and lanes

hopped a couple of streams

but never found the roadside players

Back at the trailer

my breathing heavy from the labor

I asked the sister

what had I heard

She said there weren’t any bars

at least not to her knowledge

and no neighbors that could play

She said you gotta go into the city

if you wanna hear a ditty

this type of fun it ain’t for you

She said you need to go back to the city

if you don’t it’ll be a pity

and stay away from the ghost revue