The Mountain Goats Southwood Plantation Road

I've got you,
You've got whatever's left of me to get.
Our conversations are like minefields,
No one's found a safe way through one yet.
I spend a lot of money,
I buy you white gold.
We raise up a little roof,
Against the cold
On Southwood Plantation Road,
Where at night the stars blow like milk across the sky.
Where the high wires drop,
Where the fat crows fly.

All night long you giggle and scream,
Your brown eyes deeper than a dream.
I am not going to lose you,
We are going to stay married.
In this house like a Louisiana graveyard,
Where nothing stays buried.
On Southwood Plantation Road,
Where the dead will walk again.
Put on their Sunday best,
Mingle with unsuspecting Christian men.
La la la la la