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about

An homage to the slaves who lived in the South before me.

lyrics

VERSE 1
I see clothes pins holding a sundress of indigo
I almost see you with your basket bending low
I know the sun baked your face as you hung linen sheets
Sheets that never made a bed for you to lay your swollen cheek

CHORUS
You used to sing mournful, soulful hymns
In my home town, when this land was all cotton
I can still hear your voice ride on the wind
And I promise you, you are not forgotten

VERSE 2
Kids now play around abandoned relics of the farm
Laughing and climbing, tugging on the wood plow arm
That old plow holds memories your family carried
Now salted and rusted, broken and half-buried

CHORUS
You used to sing mournful, soulful hymns
In my home town, when this land was all cotton
I can still hear your voice ride on the wind
And I promise you, you are not forgotten

credits

from The Kind of Thing That Gets Passed Down, released September 1, 2016

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about

Becca Bessinger Charleston, South Carolina

I write songs that I hope other artists will sing. But they also mean a lot to me! This EP is a 6-song collection of the ones that mean the most right now. I also perform locally sometimes as part of an original, cow-pop band called Satellite Rodeo and as part of an original duo called The Letter Show. This collection of recordings is my first solo record. Thanks for listening! ... more

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