[Intro with Louisiana sounds]
(“ooooohhhhhh, ooooohhhhhhhh”)
(“hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmm”)
(“ooooohhhhhh, ooooohhhhhhhh”)
(“hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmm”)
[Verse 1]
Down in Louisiana, where the creeks run slow
I grew up barefoot on a red dirt road
Mama in the kitchen, cleanin’ greens by the door
Hollerin’ “Boy, go pick some poke, cause we’re gonna need some more”
[Verse 2]
We’d wash that poke good and shake off the dew
Boil it up tender with a ham hock or two
Not a fancy feast, but it filled our tummies tight,
Mama’s pokesalad and cornbread on a hot summer night.
[Chorus]
Pokesalad on the table, sassafras tea in my cup
Cattails swayin’ while the wind’s picking up
Cicadas singin’ their lonesome refrain
Down in Louisiana, not feeling any pain.
[Verse 3]
Pokesalad and sassafras, simple and free
Bayou flavors that still run deep in me
Daddy brewing tea from roots he would dig
Under a sassafras tree, with our hound dog Trigg.
[Verse 4]
Roots red like the sunset, and sweet as a prayer
Coolin’ on the porch in our thick evening air
Boiled on the stovetop, in Mama’s favorite pot,
Served with sugar and cream, in a cup steaming hot.
[Chorus]
Pokesalad on the table, sassafras tea in my cup
Fireflies dancin’ when the moon’s comin’ up
Gators in the water, growlin’ soft and low
Food, huntin’ and fishin’ was all we wanted to know.
[Instrumental Interlude] [guitar, fiddle, banjo, harmonicas, piano, drums]
[Bridge]
Now I’m miles away, with city lights shining in my eyes
But when I squinch them just a bit, I can still see home’s fireflies
I dream of Mama’s kitchen, and smell pokesalad steaming up,
Or catch a whiff of sassafras tea, as Dad pours Mom another cup.
Those childhood memories will never fade,
They are the part of my soul that I will never trade.
[Chorus]
Pokesalad on the table, sassafras tea by the cups
One sip and I’m runnin’ back roads with two ruts
Barefoot and laughin’ in a warm Louisiana rain
Eating enough pokesalad and cornbread to make a man insane.
[hamonicas and fiddles interlude]
[Outro]
(“ooooohhhhhh, ooooohhhhhhhh”)
(“hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmm”)
Pokesalad and sassafras, so simple and free
My hometown flavors keep calling out to me
When it’s my time to pass on, I’ll know before too long,
They’ll cook pokesalad and sassafras in heaven to call me home.
