Going down South visit Mama Hattie
The air, clean and musty fills my lungs
The red dirt speaks of her rich black history
seeded, planted, plowed and grown
into the great American dream
The trees atre tall, thin and sturdy
like my grandfather
Yes, the trees saw it all
The slave ships, the Civil War, 
the forty acres and a mule
The whole shebang!
I think the trees talk to each other
yet keep secret from us all
the key
to everlasting happiness

Going down South visit Mama Hattie
She is okay
It is good to see her well
My grandma is so-o-o-o brown
Her eyes speak a song
"Sho' nuff" "that's right" "Hush yo' mouf"
I want to step inside her real soul
walk the dirt roads
she walked as a child
carry the buckets she carried
picked the cotton she has picked
live the history she has lived
and peer into the great American dream
Going down South visit Mama Hattie