Standard (EADGBE)

 High upon a forgotten mountain top, lay a garden, untended and dry

 'twas a yard that hadn't felt children's feet running, for the mother long

 ago, taught her children how to fly

 Within a simple cabin, untouched by industrial hands

 Sat the aging mother in her home

 You can’t escape the picture frames, there’s too many, she said

 They keep me from being alone

 Well she spoke, "he was an honest man, he worked hard to put food on our plates

 Well we had more babies than we had arms, we struggled all our lives

 But the rewards were great

 And when my son came home from the war, he rested his head on my breast

 And said, “mom, I’m tired of being used and grinded down, I feel so low

 Can you make me feel like I’m the best?”

 Well my best friend truly wed a savage man, he wore her like a bad tattoo

 For his only love was for the bottle, she said there’s only one thing left for me to do

 To be wild once again, to take back my life and run away, set flames to his truck

 He won’t ever know he’s been missing I did every day, joy freedom, dance, and love

Dance and love..."

These are the stories that this mother spoke to me,

 As I brought her garden back to grow. I was rewarded with a warm meal

 Tales never to be heard, some call it poverty, but they’ll never know

 She said “All I’ve got is my stories and this old guitar, my crops have all come and

away,

 I’ve got a head full of recipies,enticing to the taste and a liking to wake up and greet

day

 Got bad back from raising my children, from hugging my husband so tight

 Hell, I’ve never cared much for any government, I’ve got my jesus when I feel the time

right,

 Singin’ I’m the richest I'll ever be, I embrace the world I have all around me. So sing

dying song, and

slap your knee, Have a taste of true anarchy

Yeah, anarchy