Days By The Seaside With Ice Cream
------Southern Tenant Folk Union
Mama’s in the driving seat, daddy’s in the back,
He’s not saying nothing no more, he’s covered with a sack .
He’d been killing in the kitchen but juring a short low,
Mama went and got the accent, drove it by all his scars.
She’s left of anyone text, he buried in his pain,
And on together in car we can catch the chain.
My sister’s in the front with mom, bucket tense bay packed,
I’m in the back with dad, I’m hoping he stays intact.
Who’s huge face is here to give us a wicked rack?
Ain’t dealing nothing no more, just hanging in the sack.
And we reach in the seaside, it’s late in the day.
One on each side we chose, we don’t have much time to play.
Tracked daddy out on the beach and leave him in the sand,
His stated eyes don’t see the skies, too late to understand.
And when we go to the beach some days I hold on great,
So I darken the steed, even the rest it seems outraged.
Under a dirty he snares, a day comes in an act,
Momma buys a sole ice cream, some things will just forget about.