Below the levy roads where she caught catfish
With cornmeal, exchanged stories of bait
Fetes, lead and blue moons

Learned early the weight of daisies

Nail your conviction to the wisdom wall
Or black eyed susan come and mess with you

Now you think to prowl the levy roads
Sweet and musky with the fennel

Low and thick with the Delta and
They don’t whisper there

Your words fell like chump change onto the gravel
She kicked it over to the high side of the road

If you’d known her and her Good Year boots
Then you’d know she doesn’t play and stirs
Her coffee with a knife

‘Cause their aren’t really any sweethearts that
Hang out in truck stops and fancy cherry grips

And someone thought they knew and were funny
How funny