My Tears Are Salty

My Tears Are Salty

I never realized it could end

The world of my childhood dreams

Where what was possible was probable

Where heroes and queens did the impossible

My past is in the music streams

I’m back there when the guitar screams

Far down South where color was more than in a seam

Where the good ole boys whipped and demeaned

Never knew what snow was, for hot was the mean

Wind blew thru’ the cotton and there was a musical sound that streamed

My nanny’s name was Cotton or Grace or Mary

I was looked after despite the color of their skin

The Church preached separation but we listened to Hendrix’s tunes

Do I miss the lazy times that was like drinking constant wine?

Mint Julip on the vine, such an unusual mixed up time

My tears are always close for I’m a Southern boy deep down