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• Artiste: Les Sampou
• Titre: Holy Land
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daddy worked the river as a flat boat man to pay the rent at the holy land a trailer park in a shantytown hook up and water, no money down. . . in the holy land momma sipped her whiskey from a chipped tea cup she crossed her legs and held her pinkie straight up bourbon, bitters, a sugarcube it ain't a mint julep, but it'll do. . . in the holy land i know'd jimmy since we were kids whatever he wanted is whatever we did lying by the river where the rushes grew high growing up fast 'neath the midnight sky. . . in the holy land we used to race that northbound train motorcycle pumping like a junkie's vein our headlight was the moon above and the road curled 'round us like a tunnel of love when the days dragged by like a wounded dog in the delta dirt of broken dolls hey, hi, we would fly to the cool muddy waters of the riverside in the holy land momma died drunk and daddy died straight jimmy left town on that northbound train folks all swore the boy'd go far 'cuz he played like a demon on a slide guitar he said he'd sing for me and the holy land and me, i don't do much but count my cares on this sagging front porch in momma's old chair chain smoking small talk with mary jo listenin' for jimmy on the radio sing for me and the holy land come on, boy, and sing for me in the holy land! We used to race. . .