Across the deep cola coloured water,
A bridge on a country backroad.
Tabacco and wheat on either side.
My negro friend lost his money and wife.
He sighed and didn´t even let me convice him
to avoid dying.
I watched him bob up and down,
though he was pulled under shortly after
by the mainstream
and it´s merciless undercurrent.
Lost my friend so...
down stream in the alligator infested shallows
I tried to find a piece of me.
Sometimes having to fend those monsters off with sticks.
The mud and sunshine made everything
look like brass.
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