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Simple Story of Life In The South...

Where The Cypress Grows

© J. David Lambert, BMI, ASCAP, NSAI
3131 Goldmine Road
Spartanburg, SC 29302
Lamb3131@aol.com
Written 8 November, 2009
Composition 11/13/2009
Intro: Key D
Intro (D A G) (D A G)

Verse 1 :
I live in the South land, and she ain’t forgotten,
Ancient oak trees stand guard where it used to be all cotton,
Whipoorwills and crickets still singing the same old song

Chorus :
I come from where the cypress grows,
Spanish moss in a gentle breeze swaying slow
Sweet perfume of jasmine in the spring, let’s me know,
I’m home in the place where I belong,
The smells of fried chicken after singing all of those Sunday songs,

Repeat Chorus:

Turn: (D A G) (D A G)

Verse 2:
They say life down here is kinda’ slow,
Old man plowing a field under a lazy summer sun,
They’re still raising that town square flag every dawn,

Verse 3:
Checker board games at country store raging on,
An old hound dog lays around waiting on a yellow bus
Little boy gets off and they’re ready to run,

Chorus:

Instrumental Chorus:

Outro:
(D A G) (D A G)
I come from where the cypress grows
Man this is the life don’t you know,
Down this old dusty winding road
It’s down there where the cypress grows