One-Peg Swagger (6.1)

country rap, swamp rock, psychedelic rap

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V6-MINI

[singer A]

One-peg leg, dockside smile,
Hickory stump, walkin' wild.
Wood grain shin, rusty nail scar,
Stompin' that beat like a front-porch star.

Old crow hollered, pirogue slid,
Through mossy trees where the catfish hid.
Spit quick tales, a drawl so thick,
You could butter it up with a fiddle lick.

Bayou whisper, throat all raw,
Swamp fox singin' through a screen door’s jaw.
Talk real fast, but I move real slow,
Mud got my soul and it won't let go.

Gator yawpin', sugarcane bank,
Gold tooth shine, mean old rank.
Snapped at the moon with a sulphur hiss,
Said, “Back up, slick, don’t want none of this.”

Leeches dancin', puddle of rain,
Crawlin' up my boot, pokey pain.
Flicked 'em off with a banjo string,
Kept on preachin' that backwoods thing.

Bluegrass in my blood, corn in the ground,
Fiddle cryin' high, dobro wound.
Mandolin chatter, washboard clap,
That’s the rhythm makes a swamp boy rap.

Daddy was a logger, flint-hard stare,
Mama cooked beans with a preacher’s prayer.
Ate by lantern, then we’d go outside,
Chased fireflies long by the riverside.

Learned from the frogs, whippoorwill’s call,
Porch creak, thunder’s drawl.
Wind in the reeds, boat oar splash,
Made a whole life out of hillbilly flash.

Rollin' through town in a rusty canoe,
Cargo of stories, pair of old shoes.
Every side-eye, every chuckle I get,
Turns into a verse in my bayou set.

Twang on my tongue, stomp in my chest,
Fast-talk fire, weathered vest.
Rattle off truth like a possum on gin,
Slide right back with a crooked grin.

Fish fry joint, sawdust flies,
Spit out a rhyme, the whole room dies.
Fiddler jumps in with a squealin’ bow,
Whole damn floor starts shakin’ slow.

[Chorus]
I’m that river boy, let the banjo ring
One-peg step and a swamp song swing
Mud on my boots, but I keep it clean
Rockin’ that bend where the cypress leans

If you hear that fiddle cuttin’ through the night
That’s Greg comin’ back with the porch-light bite
From the blackwater banks to the fish fry glow
Yeah, everybody knows the way I roll

[singer B]
Old swamp bayou voice, it’s gravel and honey
Like a moonlit creek when it ain’t too sunny
I stretch them vowels and I bend them words
Like a chicken-wire fence with a flock of birds

I met a river queen with a laugh like rain
She wore turtle shells and a blacksnake chain
Said, “Greg, you’re wild, but you’re kind of neat”
Then she tapped her heel to my one-leg beat

We drifted past graves where the willows weep
Past cypress knees in the water deep
She told me, “Boy, every scar you wear
Is a road map back to a life that’s rare”

So I sang real loud with a frog-throat growl
And the otters came peepin’ from the channel foul
The herons lifted with a papery wing
Like they’d never heard a swamp boy sing

I got mud on my cuffs and a hymn in my chest
And a long-tailed moon over the cedar nest
When the lightning cracks, I don’t run no more
I just count the beats on the thunder’s door

Fast rap, slow drag, with a country bend
I’m a backroad poet with a bent-up friend
That friend’s my shadow, my peg-leg stride
We keep time together on the outgoing tide

From the feed store gossip to the churchyard tales
From the crawfish boils to the freight train wails
I stitch it all up in a ragged tune
And I pin it to the night like a silver spoon

If you follow my trail where the bullfrogs boom
You’ll find me a-comin’ through the cypress gloom
Talkin’ ’bout heartbreak, hard work, and grace
With a swamp mud smirk on my weather-beat face

I don’t need silk, I don’t need gold
Got a fiddle song and a story told
Got a one-peg leg and a heart full of fire
And a porch-light dream with a tin-roof choir

So clap them hands and stomp that floor
Let the banjo rattle like a rattler’s roar
I’ll spit these verses till the dawn come clean
Like a river runnin’ through a moonlit dream

And when I go down that muddy track
I’ll leave my boots and my echoes back
In every bend of the bayou night
A little piece of Greg still hums upright

So remember my name when the cypress sways
One-Peg-Leg Greg in the old folk ways
River boy, swamp voice, bluegrass blade
Fast-tongue legend in the shade I made

[Chorus]
I’m that river boy, let the banjo ring
One-peg step and a swamp song swing
Mud on my boots, but I keep it clean
Rockin’ that bend where the cypress leans

If you hear that fiddle cuttin’ through the night
That’s Greg comin’ back with the porch-light bite
From the blackwater banks to the fish fry glow
Yeah, everybody knows the way I roll

[Outro]
(Music fades slightly, crickets chirp, distant banjo plucks)
Yeah, that's Greg. Still out there, somewhere.
The river keeps rollin', and so does his song.
Goodnight, y'all.
(Silence, then a final, soft banjo note)

4912/7500

[Intro] (Banjo strumming, gentle fiddle, a distant frog croak) Yeah, you hear that? That's the sound of the deep South. Where the air hangs heavy and the stories run deep. Get ready now, 'cause here comes the river boy. [singer A] One-peg leg, dockside smile, Hickory stump, walkin' wild. Wood grain shin, rusty nail scar, Stompin' that beat like a front-porch star. Old crow hollered, pirogue slid, Through mossy trees where the catfish hid. Spit quick tales, a drawl so thick, You could butter it up with a fiddle lick. Bayou whisper, throat all raw, Swamp fox singin' through a screen door’s jaw. Talk real fast, but I move real slow, Mud got my soul and it won't let go. Gator yawpin', sugarcane bank, Gold tooth shine, mean old rank. Snapped at the moon with a sulphur hiss, Said, “Back up, slick, don’t want none of this.” Leeches dancin', puddle of rain, Crawlin' up my boot, pokey pain. Flicked 'em off with a banjo string, Kept on preachin' that backwoods thing. Bluegrass in my blood, corn in the ground, Fiddle cryin' high, dobro wound. Mandolin chatter, washboard clap, That’s the rhythm makes a swamp boy rap. Daddy was a logger, flint-hard stare, Mama cooked beans with a preacher’s prayer. Ate by lantern, then we’d go outside, Chased fireflies long by the riverside. Learned from the frogs, whippoorwill’s call, Porch creak, thunder’s drawl. Wind in the reeds, boat oar splash, Made a whole life out of hillbilly flash. Rollin' through town in a rusty canoe, Cargo of stories, pair of old shoes. Every side-eye, every chuckle I get, Turns into a verse in my bayou set. Twang on my tongue, stomp in my chest, Fast-talk fire, weathered vest. Rattle off truth like a possum on gin, Slide right back with a crooked grin. Fish fry joint, sawdust flies, Spit out a rhyme, the whole room dies. Fiddler jumps in with a squealin’ bow, Whole damn floor starts shakin’ slow. [Chorus] I’m that river boy, let the banjo ring One-peg step and a swamp song swing Mud on my boots, but I keep it clean Rockin’ that bend where the cypress leans If you hear that fiddle cuttin’ through the night That’s Greg comin’ back with the porch-light bite From the blackwater banks to the fish fry glow Yeah, everybody knows the way I roll [singer B] Old swamp bayou voice, it’s gravel and honey Like a moonlit creek when it ain’t too sunny I stretch them vowels and I bend them words Like a chicken-wire fence with a flock of birds I met a river queen with a laugh like rain She wore turtle shells and a blacksnake chain Said, “Greg, you’re wild, but you’re kind of neat” Then she tapped her heel to my one-leg beat We drifted past graves where the willows weep Past cypress knees in the water deep She told me, “Boy, every scar you wear Is a road map back to a life that’s rare” So I sang real loud with a frog-throat growl And the otters came peepin’ from the channel foul The herons lifted with a papery wing Like they’d never heard a swamp boy sing I got mud on my cuffs and a hymn in my chest And a long-tailed moon over the cedar nest When the lightning cracks, I don’t run no more I just count the beats on the thunder’s door Fast rap, slow drag, with a country bend I’m a backroad poet with a bent-up friend That friend’s my shadow, my peg-leg stride We keep time together on the outgoing tide From the feed store gossip to the churchyard tales From the crawfish boils to the freight train wails I stitch it all up in a ragged tune And I pin it to the night like a silver spoon If you follow my trail where the bullfrogs boom You’ll find me a-comin’ through the cypress gloom Talkin’ ’bout heartbreak, hard work, and grace With a swamp mud smirk on my weather-beat face I don’t need silk, I don’t need gold Got a fiddle song and a story told Got a one-peg leg and a heart full of fire And a porch-light dream with a tin-roof choir So clap them hands and stomp that floor Let the banjo rattle like a rattler’s roar I’ll spit these verses till the dawn come clean Like a river runnin’ through a moonlit dream And when I go down that muddy track I’ll leave my boots and my echoes back In every bend of the bayou night A little piece of Greg still hums upright So remember my name when the cypress sways One-Peg-Leg Greg in the old folk ways River boy, swamp voice, bluegrass blade Fast-tongue legend in the shade I made [Chorus] I’m that river boy, let the banjo ring One-peg step and a swamp song swing Mud on my boots, but I keep it clean Rockin’ that bend where the cypress leans If you hear that fiddle cuttin’ through the night That’s Greg comin’ back with the porch-light bite From the blackwater banks to the fish fry glow Yeah, everybody knows the way I roll [Outro] (Music fades slightly, crickets chirp, distant banjo plucks) Yeah, that's Greg. Still out there, somewhere. The river keeps rollin', and so does his song. Goodnight, y'all. (Silence, then a final, soft banjo note)

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