Sam isn't worried about bein' born too late,
likes all that stuff about knights slayin' dragons
rescuin' damsels in distress
walkin' along the top of a castle wall.
Seems like it would have been a lot of fun,
but not enough to go back there to live
'cause even more than fantasy,
Sam loves toothpaste,
and toilet paper.
Sam was riding through some small town
about two o'clock one morning
stopped by a sleepy red light
into a little cafe on the corner.
It was open and brightly lit
chrome Formica and vinyl
with a young couple
sitting by the window.
They leaned across the table
looking into each other's eyes
as he reached over their coffee
with long arms and rubbed her shoulders
They smiled a little deeper
when she looked over and saw Sam
staring at them
She grinned, the boy grinned,
Sam grinned back and
as the light changed
they all surged foreword,
Sam was out ridin',
came around a curve on the mountain
looked over the side and down to the valley
Said, " Man, Tennessee...."
thought about the things made by men
fences, barns and houses
that fit and feel right;
look like they belong,
growing into the soil
and from it at the same time
How people here are a part of the Earth,
understand the nature of life
comfortable with both.
So at breakfast,
the taste of biscuits and sorghum molasses
eaten with fertile, range-fed eggs
feeds more than their bellies
and makes them rich.
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