The passing parade

i was sittin' in the parlor
drinkin' the governor's tea,
i felt sorta funny
a woman was starin' at me,
i asked what the trouble was
she said she just didn't know,
when i looked out the window
i knew it was fixin' to snow,
the icy-cold princess
had jumped in her wagon and fled,
all her possessions
were cramped up inside of her head,
guns and Diogenes
could never correct all this mess,
and the last bus to Dallas
rumbled off in seeming distress,
the streetsweeper giggled
as he bent down and picked up a dime,
and stashed it away
to blow at some other time
i sat there so numbly
i had been sorely mislead,
she's back here again
i know she's burned up her gas,
but i've run out of money
and drank all the beer in my glass,
the town's biggest fool
is yellin like some kind of loon,
he's lost his connections
and laments for his lost silver spoon,
i just sat there staring
counting the years i had lost,
scattered behind me
like confetti carelessly tossed,
the lost-beat gambler
sit with his aces and eights,
confused and upset
beaten by Jokers and straights,
he looked at my misery
and smiled through his shiny gold mouth,
take it or leave it
its called the song of the south,

1973