Oregon

Oregon

Whoever I am found a part of me

In you

Pink lace in the underbrush on the side of the road

Grew my food from Mother Earth

Goddamn, my flow was true

True

Dead leaves

All year around come down from the trees

Come back to the ground

Bruised my knees tearing up this garden bed

Stirring new life into what was dead

And now I'm proud

Proud

Ooh

Ooh

Black jean cutoffs rolled above the leg

Long blade shining high upon your waist

Dried blood-mud caked all around your mouth

Tell the truth now, do not shout it out

When it's too late

Late

Ooh

Ooh

Ooh