CV One Nine

Past St. Peter, up on Bourbon Street

Stood a midnight church where my friend would sing and preach,

A funky bluesman of the cloth, if one ever lived.

But now that he’s gone, they wanna make him a political whippin kid.

Cv one nine, I won’t say it’s name in full,

Took my job, all my money, and the babies out of school.

I’d rather take my chances in a cold Virginia mine

Than to watch it all burnin up from cv one nine.

Momma Jean moved her chair to the entry way

She could see her kids through the glass on the porch, they could pray.

Her faith will move mountains, but she needs a hand to hold.

Lord, rain your love down, here where sorrow’s seeds are sown.

Cv one nine, I won’t say it’s name in full,

Took my job, all my money, and the babies out of school.

I’d rather take my chances in a cold Virginia mine

Than to watch it all burnin up from cv one nine.

Here I sit in Texas, just starin at my hands.

Where’s the politics in breathin?

Does dyin make a man?

Cv one nine, I won’t say it’s name in full,

Took my job, all my money, and the babies out of school.

I’d rather take my chances in a cold Virginia mine

Than to watch it all burnin up from cv one nine.