brought in the old furnishings from mussel shoals.
up here they burn a lot of brown coal.
and the cars all run on diesel fuel.
the wind comes in from hills to the east,
blowing thirty miles an hour at least.
and the clear blue horizon is smooth and cool.
and the house is like a relic of days gone by.
and it's kinda hard to take, but i try.
i've got a deep need to communicate.
i want so badly to set things straight.
but i can't seem to concentrate deep in the heart of the quaker state.
i had the bed sent in from the west coast.
watched the moving men carry in the old ghosts.
and the purple-ink sky swelled up like a pregnant woman.
saw the lights go up in town.
on the back porch it began to cool down.
but in here, in here, in here it was hotter than an oven.
and the way my blood began to froth and foam,
made it feel just like home.
i've got a deep need to communicate.
i want so badly to set things straight.
but i something tells me it's way too late deep in the heart of the quaker state.