Hold Fast to the Grass, Child;
The Earth Always Spins
- With three days gained and a new pair of shoes
- Started moving for a reason to find a reason to move
- To find a place, a thing, a person, job, jail, self-respect
- With a map of sympathetic squats and songs to speed the steps
- Thought I'd leave no trail to follow, let no one find my clues
- As I crossed the country whistling songs
- and writing ramblin' blues
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- Met a man stopped on I-seven-five, his tires had run flat
- Said his name was not important and nor was mine, at that
- Said “It's plain dangerous to just be walking around,
- We need aluminum armor, we need tires on the ground,
- We need cylinders, brakes and fossil fuels.”
- A man stopped on I-seven-five
- taught me the ramblin' blues
-
- Went to sleep when it turned dark, lay hidden in the dirt
- Woke up before the sun arose, a spider on my shirt.
- I said “Excuse me, sir, could you move your legs?”
- He said “I stayed too long here, anyway.
- But thanks for not just slapping me off, like most people do to you
- When you're an arachnid on the road,
- spinning out the ramblin' blues.”
-
- Found a freight train headed out so I shrugged and climbed inside
- Found out I wasn't first young man to try to hitch this ride
- Found a dozen more all sitting around talking
- Making plans, taking breaks from walking
- One held a switchblade, one a gun, so I guess I had to choose
- Do I try to fight, try to run,
- or do I tell ‘em my ramblin' blues?
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- As things turned out, they were ramblin', too
- And always glad to add another man to their crew
- They were cruisin' around, singing “We Shall Not Be Moved”
- Because when it came to protest, it was a simple tune
- And the suits with the guns didn't seem to mind, and they seemed to tip well, too
- Dropping quarters into hats and shaking their heads
- at their rendition of the ramblin' blues.
-
- Took my leave to head on out, feet kicking on the road again
- When I met a serpent on the sidewalk with a lisp a shifty grin
- He said, “Don't tense up, kid, I'm not looking to fight.”
- And as I lowered my guard, he took a bite
- So as he crept away I felt a sting creeping from my shoes
- The venom burning in my legs
- to end my ramblin' blues.
-
- Well, I was numb from the hips on down,
- It was looking like I wouldn't get back to town
- So I stepped out to the road and raised my thumb up to the sky.
- And who should stop but the man I'd met stranded on I-seven-five.
- He said “What'd I tell you, son, you're a fool.
- Now hop in back and close your eyes
- try to dream up some ramblin' blues.”
-
- The Nurse said that logically I should've been dead
- That I was lucky that the venom didn't reach my head
- And asked me where I wanted to go.
- I shook my head and raised my hands, in a gesture said “I don't know.”
- “How about some place,” She said, “where the snakes can't get to you?”
- And that sounded nice, to get back home
- and close my ramblin' blues.
-
- When I got home and told the family about
- All the people I'd met, all the things I'd found out,
- Grandma looked around and said “What'd I say?
- I knew the kid'd find out on his own some day,
- That the Earth spins, child, and the soil is loose
- So hold fast to the grass with both of your hands
- or you'll feel those ramblin' blues.”