Death of the American Song Paroles

In this our darkest hour
We've gone and neglected
Our pale wildwood flower

So beat the drum slowly as they carry her away
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay
I see Tammy and Patsy with their long black dresses on
Mourning the death of the American song

Songs that haunt our memories
Sung on porches long ago
All that's left of them today
Are footprints in the snow

I'm waiting at the station
But I fear I wait in vain
'Cause Old 97
Is rusting in the rain

The radio is playing I see those painted faces
They are smiling on TV
And I find that they're all
Rank strangers to me