Storm tonight has me restless
Makes me want to go somewhere
Do something, but I don't know
Just don't know what I want,
What I need.
Seems like I might be satisfied
To sit on the porch of an old log cabin
Watchin' the rain
Listenin' to it hit the tin roof.
Maybe sip a cup of scalded coffee
Maybe sip a little glass
Of corn likker
Cold from the fridge
Drops of dew on the glass.
See an old sooner dog look
Out from a barn door
Wantin' to come up
Onto the porch
Wantin' human company
But too well mannered
To bring his sorry old wet hide
Up with civil folks.
Maybe I'd put on old work boots
Throw a slicker on
Put a wide brimmed hat
Top of my head
And walk the ridges,
Feel the rain gentle on me
Wander through the hills
Like a sodden ghost
Through the rain
Through the mist caught low
Lookin' for what might have been
Lookin' for what is
Hopin' for what will be.
Lookin deep into the valleys
Searchin' the hillside
Lookin' behind every tree
For that which was lost.
Maybe callin' out
Knowin' there won't be
Any answer
But callin' just the same.
Maybe I'll take an old Indian flute
Play a forlorn tune
Hauntin' as the memories
I carry like burdens tonight.
Maybe as I play
Top of the ridge
Standin' on the dirt an' clay
That claims my spirit
Shackles my heart to the hills
Spirits of my ancestors
Welsh, Irish, Scots
Will come down to dance a reel, or jig
Joined by those who have darker skin,
Red and brown
Powhatan, Choctaw, Cherokee
And mysterious Melungeon
To take their turn in the dance
Calling to me
"Come, join, dance
Dance the dance
Of the Appalachia's
Slow, eternal.
Dance with us,
Our son, our child"
But I play
I cannot stop
But perhaps I do.
And in the silence I hear
The tune eternal of hill and holler
Rock and rill
Blowin' down every dry branch
Whispered by the mighty oak
Taken up by bird and beast.
The song of home.
the song of home.
I am restless tonight
Maybe it is just the storm.
Maybe I hear an ancient call.
