For An Old Kentucky Anarchist

High upon a forgotten mountaintop
Lay a garden untended and dry
'Twas a yard that hadn't felt children's feet running
For the mother long ago taught her children how to fly
Within a simple cabin, untouched by industrial hands
Sat the aged mother in her home
You can't escape the picture frames, there's too many, she said
They keep me from being alone

Well, she spoke, he was an honest man
He worked hard to put food on our plates
Well, we had more babies than we had arms
We struggled all our lives, but the rewards were great
And when my son came home from the war
He rested his head on my breast
And said, ma, I'm tired of being used and grinded down
I feel so low
Can you make me feel like I'm the best?

Well, my best friend truly wed a savage man
He wore her like a bad tattoo
For his only love was for a bottle
She said, there's only one thing left for me to do
To be wild once again, to take back my life
To run away
Set flames to his truck
He won't ever know what he's been missing
I did every day
Joy, freedom, dance and love
Yeah, dance and love

These are the stories that this mother spoke to me
As I brought her garden back to grow
I was rewarded with a warm meal
Tales never to be heard
Some call it poverty, but they'll never know
She said, all I got's my stories and this old guitar
My crops have all come and gone away
I got a head fulla recipes
Enticing to the taste
And a liking to wake up and greet the day
Got a bad back from raising my children
From hugging my husband so tight
Hell, I never cared much for any government
I got my Jesus when I feel the time is right

Singing, I'm the richest I'll ever be
I embrace the world I have all around me
So sing a dying song and slap your knee
Have a taste of true anarchy