Raymond Patterson, Lyric
Amy LaCour, Composer
I've Got a Home in that Rock
I had an uncle once who kept a rock in his pocket
Always did, up to the day he died.
And as far as I know, that rock is still with him,
Holding down some dust of his thighbone.
From Mississippi he’d got that rock, he’d say-
Or sometimes, from Tennessee: a different place each time
He told it, how he’d picked it up when he first left home-
Running, he’d say- to remind him when times got hard
Enough to make him homesick, what home was really like.
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