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• Artiste: Ron Pope
• Titre: Southern Cross
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She was a hard, hard woman with a pilgrim soul, Had a face all lined from I don’t know Where she has been, But now she’s here with me. We headed North on 29 through Kansas City, 4th of July. In the late night fog, There were fireworks to see. And when I’m lost, you are my True North. Carry the weight of my Southern Cross. And though it burns, you don’t fear the hurt, You were born from the dust, you were raised in the dirt. We were all hopped up on kerosene, Or something else that burns, it seemed That we would never Put the fire out. I got down on my knees to pray, Forgot the words I used to say, When I was young, Each night ‘fore I laid down. And when I’m lost, you are my True North. Carry the weight of my Southern Cross. And though it burns, you don’t fear the hurt, You were born from the dust, you were raised in the dirt. You were born from the dust, you were raised in the dirt. I’ve been counting stars above the water, Evenin’s winding down. Just thinking bout the things I’ve seen and where I’m runnin now. And when the sun comes up tomorrow I’ll be headed out. Yeah that’s the part I know could tear me down. And when I’m lost, you are my True North. Carry the weight of my Southern Cross. And though it burns, you don’t fear the hurt, You were born from the dust, you were raised in the dirt. And when I’m lost, you are my True North. Carry the weight of my Southern Cross. And though it burns, you don’t fear the hurt, You were born from the dust, you were raised in the dirt. You were born from the dust, you were raised in the dirt. You were born from the dust, you were raised in the dirt.