there is something so southern in the romanticism that the south sometimes receives
*when i can ignore the accents*
discovered the boyfriend loves running jokes
and saw the south like i see it with my own eyes
be it 1918 or 2009 the south looks remarkably the same
the swamps and grand houses that i pass everyday
the fog the mist and the sun rising over the water
i like to drive on roads that are canopied in Spanish moss
over thin two lane roads that are surrounded by water and old bare trees
pluff mudd and salt water are in my veins
