The Sleeping Prophet - Hopkinsville

On the corner of

7^th Street and Young…we lay

Seven stretching backs

On the blue grass…dismayed

I’m not the only leader of a lost cause… to come from this lonely town

Prone to reverie, restless brothers, we… take flight

Bare feet on the sod, through the goldenrods…we glide

Let’s take a late swim in Lake Blythe

Make haste, the sun waits for no child…

It’s throwing shadows on the cold floor

Past the old Lone Oak mansion

As haunted as it ever has been

By a red coat widow from the old war

I’m not the only leader of a lost cause… to come from this lonely town

I’m not the only leader of a lost cause… to come from this lonely town

Back at Beverly, one-room academy…in thought

I let loose a smile, pride of the Pennyrile…I’m not

But put the book under my pillow

And in the morn, I’ll recite Thoreau

Gifted beyond my comprehension

They’re raising up monuments

But not for somnambulist

Mystics with the best intentions

I’m not the only leader of a lost cause… to come from this lonely town

I’m not the only leader of a lost cause… to come from this lonely town

(The Ohio Valley Railroad, leads me home wherever I go)

The cardinals, the grey squirrels, the coffee trees

The black rows, tobacco, my father’s pleas

The White Plains, the tear stains, the Cherokee

The old bones, the gravestones, the Calvary