tongue slap your brains out

knowing you were laundry-

folding just outside the

bedroom door

i slept near it

knowing you would carry

half the hapless buzzing

of my dilated spirit

i know you never dreamed

i'd become a damn yankee

i need you to believe

that i'm still your same baby

no feeling like finding

a peach cobbler sunning

belly-up on the granite

the kind that'll make your

tongue slap all your brains out

i know you never dreamed

i'd become a damn yankee

i need you to believe

that i'm still your same baby

i know you never dreamed

i'd become a damn yankee

if you could only see

it's still the georgia winds that move me