Lyric Wash Jones

I was talking to an oak tree
When the cypress butted in.
Out of car parts, a raven
Made a nest inside my skin.
To understand me better
You all ought to follow me home
I make a wish I clean the fish
I can scream like the cicada
Gin the seed right out of the bowl
Ride the train to Memphis
When there s cotton to be sold.
To understand this better
You all ought to follow me home
Make a wish & clean the fish
That s why they call me Wash Jones.
I feel like driving but my car won t run
I feel like plowing but my mules won t come.
I was lost down in the bottom
I was cutting through the cane
Tied my team up to a rusty trace chain
That s why they call me Wash Jones.