Banjo Boy

banjo boy

from way down deep in the country

fingers flying over the strings

his tanned face stalwart in the arms of the music

his heart vibrating with all he knows

old running rivers

blanketed morning mountains

roosters calling in the lonesome

hard days hoeing

dirt his main friend

banjo boy

giving his everything

every day

every night

he will live for all times

in the greyness of his future beard

in the hand-me-down souls of those who listen

in the ancient and earth-loving winds of his home

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