Sassafras Sassoon (Life & Times)

By the Gothic Rangers (me and Robin Willhite)

A thoughtful old geezer recounts his epilepsy-enhanced witnessing of events before, during, and after the great national Strife.









Sassafras Sassoon (Life & Times)

Well, I have lived a long and a strange life
Born in Georgia in eighteen double-naught
Now I’m ten years shy of a hundert
Lost my teeth and my bones are chalk
I have seen visions since my childhood
Folks said I was touched and cursed
But that euphoria with those fits
Got to be a sign of divine work
‘Prenticed a smithy when I was fourteen
Joined with Jackson near Horseshoe Bend
I still recall that turkey-shoot raid
He slaughtered five hundert and fifty red men

Reckon these eyes seen everything
Reckon it’s worked on my heart and mind
Reckon there’s a reason that I’m still breathin’
Reckon it’s important that I pen these lines

In ’36, I was Houston’s wheelwright
San Jacinto was a bloody mess
Mexico kicked off’n its own land
Santa Anna wearin’ Yellow Rose’s dress
Years flew by, then I went a-forty-ninin’
All the way to that pacifyin’ sea
Theft and fraud in those shenanigan camps
I busted flat out in ‘53
I figured there was a big storm comin’
Back in Kentucky midst tall ash trees
Saw it certain, saw a cold dead angel
Buried it deep, lest an unholy feast

Reckon I knew that war was comin’
Reckon I knew there’d be a heap ‘a killin’
Reckon that was just bound to happen
Reckon no man should work against his willin’

Well, I was slowin’ down with the rheumatiz’
When they caught that Chiricahua medicine man
He shore had gumption, shore a brave ‘un
Is knife revenge so hard to understand?
Jest last year in the Nashville paper
Caught a small column on page number ten
A polecat judge in that railroad case
Gave corporations the rights of men

Reckon it’s time for that long, dark sleep
Reckon I’m worn out, a mite melancholy
Reckon there’s an antichrist on the horizon
Reckon finance demons are fat and jolly

Reckon these eyes seen everything
Reckon it’s worked on my heart and mind
Reckon there’s a reason that I’m still breathin’
Reckon it’s important that I pen these lines

Yo-de-lay-hee
Yo-de-lay-he-HO!



Words and music by Tim Buck




The Gothic Rangers at MySpace