September 14, 2010
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Her name was Alabama
She cried when the South should have won
She hates the cold, reveres the old
Dances wildly under the sun
To see her, to see a Lady
Lace gloves grace her hands
Other laugh, some even scorn
She doesn’t expect them to understand
If she be alone
Forever proud she will be
Not to proud however, for a day’s work
Or a prayer down on her knees
Her name was Alabama
Not is, for now she’s gone
LIke all others Alabama
Her legacy lives on
Never die in Alabama
Remember always, so it goes
In a land of honeysuckle and hydrangea
Of sweet sun and never snow

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