There's a porch swing in Tupelo

In the shade of the south

Where the sweet honey drips off that old hush-yo'-mouth

It's a slow road on down

That old Natchez Trace

Through Alabama cotton fields to a state of grace

It's a crisp golden Autumn On the Tennessee line

Rolling down to Mississippi like you headed back in time

Town's closed on Sunday Everybody's in church

It's empty as the moon this place here on earth

And this place don't change Some places move slow

I'm just rocking myself on this porch swing in Tupelo

I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze

Ghosts of the old south are all around me

Yea swing high, yea swing low Here on this porch swing in Tupelo

His mama must have loved him

That truck drivin' boy With the grease monkey look and the rock 'n roll voice

Well I was just thinkin' 'bout him 'Cause I guess he sat here

Singing all praise to God through poverty's tears

And this place don't change

Some places move slow

I'm just rocking myself on this porch swing in Tupelo

I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze

Ghosts of the old south are all around me

Yea swing high, yea swing low

Here on this porch swing in Tupelo

And this place don't change

Some places move slow

I'm just rocking' myself on this porch swing in Tupelo

I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze

Ghosts of the old south are all around me

Yea swing high, yea swing low

Here on this porch swing in Tupelo

And this place don't change

Some places move slow

I'm just rocking' myself on this porch swing in Tupelo

I got nothing to do but hang in the breeze

The ghosts of the old south all around me

Yea swing high, yea swing low

On this porch swing in Tupelo

(EIN thanks Max in Italy for sending us these lyrics)