Palmetto Rose

Palmetto rose in the AC vent

Cross-stitched pillow where the headrest went

He said his cab was his orneriest friend

Left him jumping the trees in the wind

Thought he had the red lights memorized

Glass in the gravel like the stars in the sky

In that slow motion minute 'tween living and dead

Looked in my eyes and he told me, he said

This war that I wage to get up every day

It's a fiberglass boat, it's azaleas in May

It's the women I love and the law that I hate

But, Lord, let me die in the Iodine State

But, Lord, let me die in the Iodine State

Palmetto rose in the sidewalk mud

Pearly white stem and big green bud

Catch him coming out of a King Street store

Bullshit story about the Civil War

And you can believe what you want to believe

But there ain't no making up a basket weave

Everybody in the Tri County knows

Who makes the best palmetto rose

And it's war that we wage to get up every day

It's a basket of sweet grass, a wedding bouquet

It's the ladies I love and the law that I hate

But, Lord, let me die in the Iodine State

Lord, let me die in the Iodine State

And out on Sullivan's Island, they're swimming

On the beach where the big boats rolled in

With the earliest slaves, women and children

Our first American kin

Here on King Street, we're selling our roses

Two for a five-dollar bill

And at night after everything closes, I'll follow my own free will

And I've taken my fill

I've taken my fill