I can almost smell the rain
And I can almost taste the fear
Behind your name
Fans turning on the ceiling
I feel sticky as a chili dog
White boys howling in the evening
On that hollow log
Tall tales down the river
Say we aim to bury the truth
But the right hand just delivered
The devil in a suit
And he talks big in Whitewash County
Talks sweet as sugar cane
Got a past that's filled with lightning
Got a future filled with rain
Bug buzzing in an empty glass
Fiddle scratching some lazy tune
We're just some place that history passed
New dust, new broom
And it's a high hot buttered moon
He's got a shiny new wax face
Swears the South's gonna rise again soon
All over the place
Rain down on Whitewash County
Smell the air coming up the line
Well you've changed your face so often
But you never change your mind
Tonight it's hot down here I can almost smell the rain And I can almost taste the fear Behind your name Fans turning on the ceiling I feel sticky as a chili dog White boys howling in the evening On that hollow log Tall tales down the river Say we aim to bury the truth But the right hand just delivered The devil in a suit And he talks big in Whitewash County Talks sweet as sugar cane Got a past that's filled with lightning Got a future filled with rain Bug buzzing in an empty glass Fiddle scratching some lazy tune We're just some place that history passed New dust, new broom And it's a high hot buttered moon He's got a shiny new wax face Swears the South's gonna rise again soon All over the place Rain down on Whitewash County Smell the air coming up the line Well you've changed your face so often But you never change your mind Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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