Текст песни: The Kudzu and the Concrete + перевод

We were like to drown

In the odour of honeysuckle

And old Lincolns running rich

On Oporto-Madrid.

The pecans that would dot

The little yard our great-granddaddy cleared,

The old ragged men that would stop,

Slinging slurred words over the fence.

With a smiling nod, Granddaddy’d pick us up and tote us inside.

He’d say, «Big buddy, any good man can fall on mighty bad times.»

There’s a thing about

All these freight trains' trumpeting sounds

That makes hearts like ours

Hum like struck steel.

There’s a thing about

Being wild and green in this careful, rusted town

That makes the dark heavy air

Sit sickly still.

Most times, hopping on here takes you to Elmwood Cemetery.

And I forget which time of day, it’ll take you straight to Memphis,

Tennessee.

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

I was born at the feet of the city, city, city.

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

We learned to love at the feet of the city, city, city, city.

You can talk about it:

Repentance and forgiveness

And loving your neighbor as yourself.

But what the hell does that mean?

When all your neighbors look the same,

And think the same,

Or else live a couple miles

Down the rural route?

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

We learned to run at the feet of the city, city, city.

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

We learned to love at the feet of the city, city, city.

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

In the kudzu and the concrete,

I was born at the feet of the city, city, city, city…

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