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Josh Woodward
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Honcho Graham from Birmingham
Aching bones and creaky homes and dust clouds on the street
Leaves are pinned by restless winds and fear
Premonition, intuition, trouble's near
Honcho Graham from Birmingham is here
The grinding fades from combine blades, the tractor's hungry heart
At three o'clock, the blackbird flock is gone
No one knows why Jenna Rose just disappeared
But Honcho Graham from Birmingham is here
Train smoke flies and alibis are sinking in the wind
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The little toys from little boys are gone
Silence fills the flour mills and streets are clear
Honcho Graham from Birmingham is here
Now every year there's less of here as nature chews it down
A town bereft and all that's left is rust
But any gent who's smelled the scent of solemn fear
Knows Honcho Graham from Birmingham was here
Honcho Graham from Birmingham was here
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