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Nassau County
                                                           by Stephen Wayne
When the sun goes down
In Nassau county
The whippoorwills call
From the tall pine trees

Crickets start a singin
Frogs start a croakin
In the lily pads
Down by the creek

The sun turns red
When it hits the Pine tops
Spanish moos glows
In the live oak trees

Florida sand stays warm
Late in the evening
A hound dog bawls
On the cool night breeze

Oh carry me... To Nassau county...
On the southern side...
Of the Florida line...
We'll float on down... St Mary's River...
Catch some big cat fish...
On a long trot line...
We'll fry em up... With grits and butter...
We'll take a sip...
Of Papa's New Wine...

Where the river flows
Out of the swamp-land
Runnin slow and deep
Round the cypress knees

The waters dark and black
Like campfire coffee
From the Georgia swamp
Right on down to the sea

When the moon comes up
Across the river
The hoot owls call
An opossum plays dead

The white-tail dear
Slip through palmettos
A bull gator grunts
On the river bed

In the flickerin flame
Of the campfire burnin
I can see the ghosts
Of a hundred years

All those cracker folks
Good hearts a yearnin
For the Lord to come
And wipe away their tears

I can hear their songs
Drift across the river
Sad as mournin doves
Sweet with old guitars

I can feel their Faith
Faith that lives forever
In the piny woods
In their strong true hearts
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