CC & The Creekboys: Music

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)

As kids in the fall, we harvested black walnuts and had the task of peeling the hull off. It leaves an indelible black ink stain on your hands for a few weeks. Sometimes in life we become typecast because of our location, accent, color, or education. It leaves a mark on us that some can't seem to release and go on through life and believe that "boundaries were create by men".

I come from the county
That the others have mocked
They say we're all no good
At least that's what they talk
They never knew my father
His blood flows through my veins
But words can darken a young heart
With skies like black walnut stain

Caught a greyhound to the flatlands
Two silver dollars was all I own
Traveled far away settled in this place
Made a vow I'd never go home
But at night I walked along those dirtroads
My tears taste like mountain rain
My world became so empty and cold
With skies like black walnut stain

He said "Son don't judge another
It's better to be a friend
And don't believe in boundaries
They're only created by men "

I come from a county
Where the bones of your fathers lay
I left it long ago my children
I thought there was no other way
Now I am an old man
I no longer remember my shame
I'm proud to be from the county
That once cause me so much pain
I'm proud to be from the county
With skies like black walnut stain
12/15/05