Birmingham Grace
Left Memphis on a southbound bus.
Entered north Mississippi as I knew I must.
Turned toward the Alabama line.
Spent the next couple hours dreaming you were mine.
Dark tunnel, no light either end.
Took a swig from my hip flask, she’s a pilgrim’s friend.
Straight bourbon in a long slow pull
Kept me warm till we turned into the terminal.
I’ve got those freeway jitters and a case of creeping frost.
I’m like fire when I’m loaded. I’m like water when I’m lost.
I’m here to meet somebody.
Like to get to know your name.
Here to meet somebody.
Just exactly why I came.
I’m here to meet somebody. Yeah!
And I think it’s you.
Short order at an all-night grill.
Grabbed a seat at the counter near a ketchup spill.
Black coffee, thick as hot-melt glue;
You’re the cream makes it smooth and you’re my sugar, too.
Low volume with a mellow sound.
You don’t play, but dear lady we can fool around.
Chaude soirée sur la Rue Le Monde;
Take my hand and we’ll waltz into the great beyond.
We’ll dance a slow explosion, spill champagne on the bed.
Love those tiny little bubbles when they’re going to my head.
I’m here to meet somebody.
We can order ala carte.
Here to meet somebody.
Drive a steak knife through my heart.
I’m here to meet somebody. Yeah!
And I think it’s you.
Left Memphis like a prison break
For a Birmingham blessing and salvation’s sake.
Don’t have a decent alibi,
Just this old-time religion and a pecan pie.
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