Breef Inder Lude

These are two of my favorite Drive By Trucker songs. They are truly amazing.

I met a 15 year old girl in a trailer park in Dixie Inn, Louisiana. I was up from Pascagoula, Mississippi visiting my ex-wife and she was babysitting her and her brother and sister. Anyway, tihs poor girl didn't know anything but the trailer park. She knew hard times and drinking and more hard times. She was against safe sex, but she didn't know exactly what or why that was.

She was well developed for her age and could have passed for much older than she was. I figured the boys were already sniffing around some. I knew she would eventually break free of this trailer park. Probably around age 16 or 17. And only to move as far as the next trailer park. To raise her family. With or without their daddy. Or daddies. So, as you're reading Zip City, think about this girl I met years ago. Think about the cycle of ignorance and poverty she was wrapped in.

I think DBT is the most authentic southern band there is. They can't help it. They don't write about the south, they write about their lives. No they don't write about the south, they are the south.The south, in all of it's grand dysfunction and gothic shadows, is the thread that makes up the fabric of their lives.

The dead on, most chillingly accurate lines in Zip City I bolded and colored red. I knew this girl. I knew more like her. You've known her too. And the protagonist in the song probably gives her the best advice she'll ever get. And probably won't heed.

I ain't got no good intentions, out
Ramblin' Ed

ZIP CITY

(Cooley / DBT)

Your Daddy was mad as hell
He was mad at me and you
As he tied that chain to the front of my car and pulled me out of that ditch that we slid into
Don't know what his problem is
Why he keeps dragging you away
Don't know why I put up with this shit
When you don't put out and Zip City's so far away

Your Daddy is a deacon down at the Salem Church of Christ
And He makes good money as long as Reynolds Wrap keeps everything wrapped up tight
Your Mama's as good a wife and Mama as she can be
And your Sister's puttin' that sweet stuff on everybody in town but me
Your Brother was the first-born, got ten fingers and ten toes
And it's a damn good thing cause He needs all twenty to keep the closet door closed

Maybe it's the twenty-six mile drive from Zip City to Colbert Heights
Keeps my mind clean
Gets me through the night
Maybe you're just a destination, a place for me to go
A way to keep from having to deal with my seventeen-year-old mind all alone
Keep your drawers on, girl, it ain't worth the fight
By the time you drop them I'll be gone
And you'll be right where they fall the rest of your life

You say you're tired of me taking you for granted
Waiting' up till the last minute to call you up and see what you want to do
Well you're only fifteen, girl, you ain't got no secretary
And "for granted" is a mighty big word for a country girl like you
You know it's just your Daddy talking
Cause He knows that blood red carpet at the Salem Church of Christ
Ain't gonna ever see no wedding between me and you

Zip City it's a good thing that they built a wall around you
Zip up to Tennessee then zip back down to Alabama
I got 350 heads on a 305 engine
I get ten miles to the gallon
I ain't got no good intentions

THE SOUTHERN THING

(Hood / DBT)

Ain't about my pistol
Ain't about my boots
Ain't about no northern drives
Ain't about my southern roots
Ain't about my guitars, ain't about my big old amps
"It ain't rained in weeks, but the weather sure feels damp"
Ain't about excuses or alibis
Ain't about no cotton fields or cotton picking lies
Ain't about the races, the crying shame
To the doggone rich man all poor people look the same

Don't get me wrong It just ain't right
May not look strong, but I ain't afraid to fight
If you want to live another day
Stay out the way of the southern thing

Ain't about no hatred better raise a glass
It's a little about some rebels but it ain't about the past
Ain't about no foolish pride, Ain't about no flag
Hate's the only thing that my truck would want to drag

You think I'm dumb, maybe not too bright
You wonder how I sleep at night
Proud of the glory, stare down the shame
Duality of the southern thing

My Great Great Granddad had a hole in his side
He used to tell the story to the family Christmas night
Got shot at Shiloh, thought he'd die alone
From a Yankee bullet, less than thirty miles from home
Ain't no plantations in my family tree
Did not believe in slavery, thought that all men should be free
"But, who are these soldiers marching through my land?"
His bride could hear the cannons and she worried about her man

I heard the story as it was passed down
About guts and glory and Rebel stands
Four generations, a whole lot has changed
Robert E. Lee
Martin Luther King
We've come a long way rising from the flame
Stay out the way of the southern thing