When I get to be a composerI'm gonna write me some music
Daybreak in
And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in
Rising out of the ground like a swamp
And falling out of heaven like soft dew.
I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in
And the scent of pine
And the smell of red clay after
And long red
And poppy colored
And big brown
And the field daisy
Of black and white black white black
And I'm gonna put white
And black hands and brown and yellow
And red clay earth hands in
Touching everybody with kind
And touching each other natural as
In that dawn of music when
Get to be a
And write about
In Alabama.
