The first things I remember are frosty Carolina mornings with a cheery fire
crackling in my mommas big black wood cook stove.
I remember snow flakes as big as goose feathers and the moon the color of new
made country bu*ter and a night sky like diamonds against black velvet reaching
from horizon to horizon.
I remember when the biggest problems in my barefoot life were sand spurs and
red ant hills.
I remember sitting with my grand-daddy on the front porch and watching the last
of that magnificent southern sun bleed away into the twilight sky.
I remember Sunday school and kneeling at the cross and trying to imagine what
God looked like; Sunday dinner, short pants, hair cuts and a little puppy my
daddy brought home to me and I remember love.
I remember steam puffing, fire breathing, awesome 10 wheel locomotives and the
conductor's watch looked as big as one of my grandmothers biscuits.
I remember my mother smiling in a red and white checkered dress and Christmas
always seemed so far away. Yes, I remember you Carolina, grand old lady of the
south. I remember you as home.
One of the memories that stays on my mind
about an old southern lady that I left behind,
is a ramshackle bridge where the deep river winds
and an old two-lane blacktop through the tall long-leaf pines.
Carolina, Carolina
You're hard, but you're hard to forget.
I still remember the magnolia nights
and goosefeather snow flakes in the gray morning light;
sandspurs and puppies and red autumn leaves
and the warm lights in the clear night on a cold Christmas Eve.
Carolina, Carolina
You're hard, but you're hard to forget.
Carolina I knew you
before the highways got to you
and I loved you as one of your own
and I still do
Carolina, Carolina
You're hard, but you're hard to forget
You're hard To Forget