As a child it was the place namesSinging at me as the first thingHow the mouth must be employedIn every corner of itselfTo say ApalachicolaOr a Hushpikina like we bar herA promise softly sung of somewhere elseAnd as a young man blessed to pass so many road signsAnd have my foreign ear made fresh againWon't each unlikely soundThe voice of a young manTo feel at home hearing the musicThat few still understandBut butchered tongues still singing hereAbove the groundThe ears were chopped from young menIf the pitch cap didn't kill themThey are buried without scalpIn the shattered bedrock of our homeYou may never knowYour fortuneUntil the distance has been shownBetween what is lost foreverAnd what can still be knownSo far from home to have a strangerCall you darlingAnd have your guarded heart be liftedLike a child up with a handIn some town that just means home to themWith no translator left to soundBut butchered tongues still singing hereAbove the groundOh, oh, oh, ohOh, oh, oh, ohOh, oh, oh, ohOh, oh, oh, oh, ohOh, oh, oh, oh, ohOh, oh, oh, oh, oh