he’s a country boy,
country boy born and bred.
On’y time he’s ever in th’city‘swhen
he’s lookin’ fer a shortcut home.
Well, Kevin’s a country boy through and through,
‘ceptin’ Kevin’s born’n’bred in th’city.
Lives in the city, too.
That’s how they do it now, y’know,
that there ain’t no jobs left down’n the country
you’re a doctor who sells drugs.
I ain’t try’n t’tell ya Kevin lived downtown,
but he lived close
or close enough.
I mean on any day his truck din’t run
th’man could walk there
in a easy hour
if he hap’t’lack the money for the bus.
I mean he coulda asked for help
or hitched a ride from som’un
‘cept these country-fried
they kinda keep unto theirselves,
and only haunt the rest of us
when they’re doin’ a piece of work for pay, leastwise
to us outsiders
that’s the way it seems.
The thing about a lot of ’em
that you gotta un’erstan’
is they do good work
and that was true of Kevin
and the crew he hung with, too.
And please don’t git alarmed here
but it’s prob’ly safest if you know
they stick together,
a couple of ‘em
could be havin’ themselves
but if you or me or
som’un else from outside’d
dare go after one’a them
th’whole dang bunch
on both sides of the feud
’d go after that outsider
‘n beat ‘em to a bloody pulp
afore they recommenced to feudin’.
My frien’ Ann told me ‘bout the time
she was workin’ in their neighborhood
when word went out
the po-lice was out there lookin’
for a boy
who’s head was shaved
when he’s last seen
was wearin’ a bright red shirt.
Nex’ day, Ann said,
every kid in the neighborhood wore red
and all of them had shaved their head.
Please un’erstan’ I don’ mean nothin’ by this –
not negative nor pos’tive neither –
I never once met Kevin
until he’s maybe forty-fi’ or maybe forty-six.
if you’re askin’ my opinion
I know his hair woulda’ grown back in by then
but I swear he did look good in red
outsider that I really am,
just sensin’ who Kevin might’a been
made me try t’ talk like him.