Tonight it's hot down here

I can almost smell the rain

And I can almost taste the fear

Behind your name

Fans turning on the ceiling

I feel sticky as a chili dog

White boys howling in the evening

On that hollow log

Tall tales down the river

Say we aim to bury the truth

But the right hand just delivered

The devil in a suit

And he talks big in Whitewash County

Talks sweet as sugar cane

Got a past that's filled with lightning

Got a future filled with rain

Bug buzzing in an empty glass

Fiddle scratching some lazy tune

We're just some place that history passed

New dust, new broom

And it's a high hot buttered moon

He's got a shiny new wax face

Swears the South's gonna rise again soon

All over the place

Rain down on Whitewash County

Smell the air coming up the line

Well you've changed your face so often

But you never change your mind