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It was '96 in South Carolina, |
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that's the place and not the god-damn year. |
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Sitting on the porch out at Bobby's place, |
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just tugging on a lukewarm beer. |
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And there I was peeping like an old sidewinder, |
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just an inch or so above the mud. |
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The first to find out that its raining |
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is the last to find out its a flood. |
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It was Paradise Valley Nevada, |
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not far from where the west was won. |
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I am the only black face in the whole damn place |
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just a raisin in the blazing sun. |
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And there I am like that old sidewinder, |
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just wishing that her eggs ain't hatched. |
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And the chain I wear has 'em wishin for the day |
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when it came with a ball attached. |
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So I'm gonna move, right outta this town. |
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When this old skin stops weighing me down. |
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He was sitting in the very same spot that Otis |
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sat to watch the dock of the bay. |
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In the very same spot, that the ships rolled in. |
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now there's nothing but the mud and the clay. |
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I'm gonna move, right outta this town. |
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When this old skin, is weighing me down. |
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This old skin. |
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Outside Orlando in the sunshine state |
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has just upped itself another degree. |
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I am the very last orange of the whole years crop. |
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hanging dearly to the branch of the tree. |
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And the wind and the spring couldn't do anything. |
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so I'm burning in the sun of the south. |
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That old sidewinder in the dust below, |
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I'm just waiting till it opens its mouth. |
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So I'm gonna move, right outta this town. |
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When this old skin, finally touches the ground. |
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He was sitting in the very same spot that otis |
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sat to watch the dock of the bay. |
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The very same spot the ships rolled in |
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now there's nothing but the mud and the clay. |
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Now I'm gonna move, right outta this town. |
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When this old skin, finally touches the ground. |
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This old skin |
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This old skin |
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This old skin. |
