(Jeff Bercovici - Co-author)
We broke the law with the mayor's ma
And the man tried to put us in jail.
And so we fled with a price on our head
And the Yankee Sheriff hot on our trail.
So help me Lord,
Give me guidance toward
The fertile hearthland that I love.
Kentucky,
The mountain kingdom of truth and independence
Yeah, Kentucky,
The tender earth of my youth and my ascendance.
We skipped town on a freighter down
The Ohio to the Mississipper.
The trouble was that the Yankee fuzz
Had gotten word from an anonymous tipper.
They lay in wait
At the dockyard gate
And we surrendered just a mile away
From Kentucky,
The mountain kingdom of truth and agriculture
Yeah Kentucky,
The tender earth of my birth and my sepulcher.
Well the Sheriff said as he kicked our head,
"I'm gonna hang you from the highest cedar."
We trained a goose to untie our noose
And we escaped in the mayor's two-seater.
The Sheriff drew and his aim was true,
So we crawled across the border to die...
In Kentucky,
The mountain kingdom of honesty enduring
Yeah, Kentucky
The tender earth of my birth and my interring.
Copyright 1997 Zach London
