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Back East
Published Sep 10, 2025
Updated Sep 10, 2025
Poetry and Songs
2 min
Poetry and Songs
Published Sep 10, 2025
Updated Sep 10, 2025
2 min
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86 readings
Back East
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One thing you can’t argue about Death Valley,
It earned its name the hard way.
Horse gone for miles; it’s just my hat and my boots,
I stumble into the dust, just looking for my roots.
But from desert to swamp, too many states to count,
I’m afraid I won’t make it without a proper mount.
Went looking for adventure in the far west,
Ended up losing everything of interest,
Born in the bayou, raised in the wetlands,
I wasn’t meant to dig gold in some fairylands.
From Frisco to Lafitte, I plotted my way back,
Seems I underestimated this desert on the track.
[CHORUS]
Should not have gone the way of the conquest,
Should not have followed everyone else west.
Greener pastures were already there before I chose to roam,
My body and my soul are now just craving for home.
I can’t go on under that infernal dry heat,
I fell into the dirt, listening to my last beat.
I see the cypress trees when I close my eyes,
Hear the fiddles echo under the southern skies.
But this barren land can’t sing me back to life,
Only the bayou can heal a Cajun’s strife.
If my bones stay buried in this desert sand,
Tell them I longed for my father’s land.
I left my soul where the swamp birds cry,
And that’s where a Cajun’s heart should die.
Mo regard s’éteint su’ l’horizon,
Mais les étoiles s’allument ben d’ssus ma maison.
[CHORUS]
Should not have gone the way of the conquest,
Should not have followed everyone else west.
Greener pastures were waiting there before I chose to roam,
Now I’ll never see them again — but I know where is home.
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