Lyal Strickland 1949
It was 1949 and I was just a kid
In that hot southern sunshine
Work was all we did
And that white cotton dust
Would drift around our heels
Them old combines would rust
Just sitting in the fields
I can still see his face old beyond his years
Furrowed and traced with hard work and tears
I watched him walk back from the barn
And saw it shine in his hands
But I knew he meant no harm
He was a good and honest man
Well I guess it was the war
That turned around his mind
Or the fact that we were poor
With nothin' down the line
Or mama's hungry eyes
Every time we went to town
For all the things she'd like to buy
He'd have to turn her down
I guess no one really cared
Cause no one really knew
All the darkness and despair
That he was going through
And now I walk this hillside
With tombstones so pale
And I'm wondering why
I was left to tell this tale
It was 1949
And I was just a kid
