Last Child

I'm dreamin' tonight.
I'm leaving back home.

Take me back to a south Tallahassee.
Down cross the bridge to my sweet sassafras.
Can't stand up on my feet in the city.
Gotta get back to the real nitty gritty.

Yes sir, no sir
Don't come close to my
Home sweet home.
Can't catch no dose
Of my hot tail poon tang sweetheart
Sweathog who can make a silk purse
From a J Paul Getty and his ear,
With her face in her beer.

Home sweet home

Get out in the field
Put the mule in the stable.
Ma' she's a cookin'
Put the eats on the table.
Hate's in the city
And my love's in the meadow.
Hands on the plow
And my feet's in the ghetto.

Stand up, sit down
Don't do nothing
It ain't no good when bossman
Stuffin' down their throats
For paper notes
And their babies cry
While cities lie at their feet.
When you're rockin' the street

Home sweet home

Mama, take me home sweet home
I was the last child
I'm just a punk in the street