Kort nadat de lp is uitgekomen die hij als zijn testament beschouwde is Tony Joe White overleden, de witte blueszanger met de Louisiana-sound. Er moet zeker een ander nummer van hem langsgekomen zijn naast Rainy night in Georgia maar op de een of andere manier is het onvindbaar geworden. Zijn eerste single, misschien bekender in de versie van Elvis Presley.
If some of y’all never been down south too much
I’m gonna tell you a little bit about this
So that you’ll understand what I’m talkin’ about
Down there we have a plant that grows out in the woods
And in the fields looks somethin’ like a turnip green
And everybody calls it polk salad, polk salad
Used to know a girl lived down there
And she’d go out in the evenings and pick her a mess of it
Carry it home and cook it for supper
Cause that’s about all they had to eat, but they did all right
Down in Louisiana, where the alligators grow so mean
There lived a girl, that I swear to the world
Made the alligators look tame
Polk salad Annie, polk salad Annie
Everybody said it was a shame
Cause her momma was a workin’ on the chain gang
(A mean, vicious woman)
Every day for suppertime, she’d go down by the truck patch
And pick her a mess of polk salad, and carry it home in a tow sack
Polk salad Annie, the gators got your granny
Everybody says it was a shame
Cause her momma was a workin’ on the chain gang
(A wretched, spiteful, straight-razor totin’ woman)
(Lord have Mercy, pick a mess of it)
Her daddy was lazy and no count, claimed he had a bad back
All her brothers were fit for was stealin’ watermelons
Out of my truck patch
Polk salad Annie, the gators got your granny
Everybody said it was a shame
Cause her momma was a workin’ on the chain gang
(Sock a little polk salad to me
You know I need me a mess of it)
Polk salad Annie, 1968
This is about two cats
They’re sittin’ down by a river in the swamps
They’re sittin’ down on the logs
One of them is kind of a big fellow
And the other one is a little bit smaller
And he’s got a long billed cap
And they’re sittin’ there ponderin’
On what they’re gonna do for the night
And anything the big guy decides
On the little guy’s for
‘Cause he digs him, he’s cool
So it’s called Roosevelt and Ira Lee
The river was dark and muddy
And the moon was on the rise
And all of the creatures in the swampland
Had woke up to feed for the night
Roosevelt and Ira Lee, huh, were sittin’ there on a log
Ira Lee turned to Roosevelt and said
I’d sure like to have a mess of bull frog
He said, yeah, yeah, lawd, sure would taste good
So they slipped on their rubber boots
And walked down to the water’s edge
And right away they knew
That the night would be a bummer
‘Cause Ira Lee stepped
On a water mossacin
He said, uh, uh, lawd
Somebody help me
Ira Lee turned to Roosevelt
When he quit his screamin’ and kickin’
And he said, let’s forget about the bullfrog legs
And go out and steal us some chickens
And Ol’ Roosevelt said like this now
Yeah, yeah, ooh, it sure would taste good
Yes it would, I love a chicken
Oh, the river was dark and muddy, yeah
Roosevelt and Ira Lee, 1969 (als single, als track 1968)
Polk salad, mossacin, corn pone – TJW maakte het wel moeilijk zijn teksten te volgen. Maar dit treurige nummer, ook van zijn eerste lp, is zo begrijpelijk als wat, en nog steeds van toepassing.
Willie and Laura Mae Jones
Were our neighbors as long time back
They lived right down the road from us
In a shack just like our shack
We worked in the fields together
And we learned to count on each other
When you live off the land
You don’t have time to think
About another man’s color
The cotton was high
And the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
We sit out on the front porch
In the evening when the sun went down
Willie would play and Laura would sing
And the children would dance around
And I’d bring over my guitar
And we’d play into the night
And every now and then
Willie would grin and say
“Boy, you play all right”
And that made me feel so good
Lord the cotton was high
And the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
I remember we’d hitch up the mules
When Saturday rolled around
We’d always stop by Willie’s house and say
“Do y’all need anything from town?”
He’d say, “No, but why don’t y’all
Stop on your way back home?
And I’ll get Laura Mae
To cook up some corn pone”
You know they’re good
Lord the cotton was high
And the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
The years rolled past our land
They took back what they’d given
And we all knew we’d have to move
If we was gonna make a living
So we all moved off
And we went our separate ways
And it sure was hard to say goodbye
To Willie and Laura Mae Jones
The cotton was high
And the corn was growing fine, yes it was
But that was another place and another time
The years rolled past our door
And we heard from them no more
Till I saw Willie down town the other day
I said, “Y’all stop by tonight
And we can sit down and eat a bite
We’d love to see your children and Laura Mae”
He shook his head real slow
And spoke with his eyes so kind
“This is another place and another time”
Lord the cotton was high
And the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
Lord, Lord the cotton was high
And the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord
The cotton was high
And the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
Willie and Laura Mae Jones, 1968
