Evergreen from Issue 81/82
In the heart of Alabama there’s a town called Evergreen,
Where the women all are toothsome and the men look fairly clean,
And a cheerful smile greets everyone and no one’s soul is mean
Sumac thrives among the underbrush and kudzu hangs from trees,
And the dogs who wander freely have no collars and no fleas.
Is there poison in the ivy? No, nor stingers in the bees
For the citizens are civilized, just upright, honest folks,
And the Waffle House fries eggs that always seem to have two yolks.
You’ll be seated in a private booth where you can smoke your smokes
It’s the kind of place you stop at when the hours are running slow.
It’s the kind of place you go to when there’s no place left to go,
When the truckers have pulled off the road and gas is getting low
If your daddy used to press on through the dark nights of the past
Back when all the roads were two-lane and no salesman traveled fast,
You’re far luckier than he was, having found a room at last
There are no nearby attractions that will tempt you from your sleep,
No loud tomcats in the neighborhood, no promises to keep.
Lay your head upon your pillow and start ticking off the sheep
You will leave behind fond memories of your night at Comfort Inn,
Where the continental breakfast bar has helped your day begin,
Where the desk clerk takes your credit card and shows a golden grin
In the Quik-Mart at the four-way stop the beer is always cold,
And the nursing home will take you if you stay here and grow old.
There are stories to be told here, but the stories won’t be told
You will hit the road at sunup with a smile upon your face
As you merge into the fast lane and accelerate your pace
On the interstate toward Greenville, an entirely different place