Lucky Mud
2015-03-01
Maggie McKinney

Story

TiTi (tye-tye) Road is the story of struggle along the Florida panhandle, where poverty runs deep and the first sweet flower of Spring is the TiTi. Its blossoms make the first honey along the wild Gulf Coast.

Lyrics

Yonder come a man with a pack on his back

He been walkin' down the railroad track

He's lookin' for food, he's gonna find the poor

Down on the TiTi Road

 

Seen a lot of people in this world before

Goin' hungry, goin' door to door

Eat a little possum or a squirrel or two

Down on the TiTi Road

 

Folks turn up their nose they ain't hungry enough

Livin' off the land can sure be rough

You'll eat anything you can get your hands on

Down on the TiTi Road

 

CHORUS:

Down on the TiTi Road we're livin'

Down on the TiTi Road

Down on the TiTi Road we're strugglin'

Down on the TiTi Road

 

Livin' is hard in a tar-paper shack

Wind blow through the front

It blow through the back

Rain drippin' off the roof and soakin' my clothes

Down on the TiTi Road

 

Patchin' holes in the walls with a paper sack

Front porch broken and the roof is saggin'

But it's better than nothin' in the Winter cold

Down on the TiTi Road

 

CHORUS:

 

Bay come alive in the Summer sun

Fish are jumpin' gonna catch me some

Fry 'em up in a pan with a hushpuppy, too

Down on the TiTi Road

 

I got bee boxes down in the TiTi swamp

Makin' sweet honey gonna get me some

Pour it onto a biscuit loaded up butter

Down on the TiTi Road

 

CHORUS:

Lucky Mud
2015-03-01
Mike McKinney

Story

Massa Joe is the story of another struggle, and that's the act of making a living in a land that pretty much has one employer. Or at least one over-seer. One place to find work.

Lyrics

Heat rising up from the highway Steam coming off of the pines July, the sap is running hot The air smells like turpentine If you want to put food on the table There's only one place you can go In this bad land, with your hat in your hand You go to work for Massa Joe You rise up early in the morning Work 'til late at night Don't argue with the man on the high horse yonder Just know he's always right He's looking out for the man with the money Making sure you don't work slow You'd better be afraid, 'cause you won't get paid If you mess with Massa Joe CHORUS: 'Cause Massa Joe lives in the Big House To hear him tell it, he's a saint The only thing you've got to know Shut your mouth and do what you're told And you'll get along with old Saint Joe You'll get along with Massa Joe Now, he don't know what your name is But he owns everything So where ever you live you're gonna be giving Your money and your time to The King 'Cause he owns the land and the airport And he owns the Company Store It might not be right, but don't try to fight it It belongs to Old Saint Joe CHORUS:
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Mike McKinney

Story

"Can to cain't" (can to can't) is an old Southern expression. Ask a pulp wooder the hours he works and he'll say, "I work from can to cain't." They work six days a week and divide the seventh between church and the time it takes to repair worn-out equipment so it's ready to go again early Monday morning.

Lyrics

CHORUS: Can to cain't, he's always out workin' Can to cain't, in the sun and the rain Can to cain't, he comes home hurtin' Got grits for his body Cheap whiskey for the pain Back at home there's a baby cryin' Back at home there's a woman who cares Back at home something's always broken Back at home there's bills to pay Men in suits always talkin' Politicians and preachers, they always want more Never worked a day, they never broke a sweat Never been hungry, never been poor CHORUS: Back at home the washer ain't workin' Back at home the clothes line's on the ground Back at home there's a woman waitin' She knows her man will never let her down But men in suits always whinin' They never have enough, they're never satisfied They never see the man who does the labor He works all day 'til the day he dies CHORUS:
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Maggie McKinney

Story

Annie Belle is a hymn to a black woman who loved me, a young white child, despite all the racial turmoil, because her faith in God was strong. She was much kinder than she had to be to a young, white girl. I will never forget her.

Lyrics

I am walkin' in the footsteps of my Lord I have traveled down many broad highways I've seen death, I've seen sorrow, I've seen misery And I've been a part of many brighter days CHORUS: Oh - I'm still travelin' Oh - I still care I am walkin' in the footsteps of my Lord And wherever he takes me, I'll go there I was born in a cabin in the backwoods I've watched many a man lose his fight Some of them were good, some were bad men But a man is just a man, black or white CHORUS: I can't ever say that I've been perfect But I can say that I've tried really hard To be the kind of woman you can count on And to follow in the footsteps of my Lord CHORUS: I have seen a hundred years come and go now There have been a thousand changes in my life But one thing I can tell you for certain A poor man just a poor man, black or white CHORUS:
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Mike McKinney

Story

This is the song of the Apalachicola River. My friend Bunky grew up along its banks and it shaped her life. She's so much like the River to me that it seemed natural to name the song after her.

Lyrics

Bright stars float on still, black water Heat like a panther rises slow Wind like a snake slithers on the river It rattles the fronds of the palmetto Frog shouts out as the rising moon Spills a pool of milk-white light Gator growls back from the muddy bank And the Apalachicola comes alive at night My boat floats like a leaf on the water Lying on my back, looking at the sky The wood hull creaks like saddle leather Sweat trickles down and burns my eyes Somebody somewhere is causing trouble Some big city hears a siren wail But on the Apalachicola the night bird's singing And the Milky Way looks like a comet's tail Then, there's the faraway rumble of a shrimp boat working And the distant whistle of a factory Dawn starts erasing all the stars from the heavens And the Apalachicola is calling me "Stay," she says in a lover's whisper "Drift a little longer on my gentle bed Stay with me and none will harm you Linger here with me," the River said "Linger here with me," the River said.
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Maggie McKinney

Story

This is a celebration song for our son, who spent many years away in California before coming home again.

Lyrics

CHORUS: I'm comin' home I'm comin' home I've been away too long I'm comin' home I left my hometown when I was eighteen I left my home and my family I made a good life by livin' Westward But I never lost my memories CHORUS: I have praised my hometown loudly Although the West has been good to me There are places that never leave you And faces I long to see CHORUS: My feet touch down on familiar places My eyes are hungry to see All my senses come alive here Back in the land that sheltered me CHORUS:
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Mike McKinney

Story

The story of a lonely man who always gets what he wants. Then, he meets Evangeline.

Lyrics

Another rainy Tampa night I fooled around and missed my flight No real reason to get back home So I turned toward the city lights I found an empty Causeway bar A lonely man in a rented car I ignored the darkness in her eyes All alone behind the bar CHORUS: She said 'you can call me Evangeline Or Angelina, I don't mind As long as you make the whiskey flow Then I'll be yours and you'll be mine' An hour's talking led to two She never asked me what I do She said, 'I don't want to know your name And I won't fall in love with you' We walked down to the waterline I lost myself in her troubled eyes Before the dark skies turned to blue I fell in love with Evangeline I won't tell a soul about Angelina 'Cause I know just what they'll say 'Look at the man who gets everything he wants And all he wants is the one that got away' I said, 'I have a plane that leaves today But I would really like to stay' Then the lovely Evangeline Just kissed my lips and walked away CHORUS:
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Mike McKinney

Story

This song is about growing up in Florida before the Civil Rights struggle changed the Deep South. And make no mistake, Florida was, and is a part of the Deep South. It's about growing up bored, restless and more than a little dangerous. It's the story, too, of what happened to young high school girls who lost their way, and what they and the boys around them did on moonlit nights in the orange groves.

Lyrics

Under a yellow moon, over the orange grove Some white boys played a game Back when the Sunshine State was still segregated And the 'good old boys' wanted it to stay that way But the Vietnam War, and Brown vs. the Board of Education Changed everything And on that night, some white boys Played a strange and dangerous game And the young girls sat on the hoods of their cars And they watched them race on by In big Chevys and Fords And they were drinking Schlitz by the quart And they were bored out of their minds If mommies and daddies knew what their children do In the light of a yellow moon They'd lock them away 'til their dying day In their safe, familiar rooms It was back in the time when those young girls Would simply disappear Sometime in their Junior or Senior year And they'd come back different And they'd come back changed In another strange and dangerous game Because 'good girls' didn't get pregnant then Without a ring on their finger And a man's last name Then all the good people would close their eyes And they'd all agree on the same damned lie Saying, 'she just went to live with her Uncle John and Aunt Marie down in Boca Raton And they'd fold their arms and make a wall 'Cause all the children were good Back in the Good Old Days But in the orange grove on that moonlit night As girls learned to flirt And all the boys were fighting Driving ninety miles an hour without headlights Through the orange trees in the steamy night We all could've died so easily In a tangle of bumpers and a flame so bright Under the quiet sky But most of us lived to go to war Or get a job and settle down To live our lives and raise our children In that mean and dying town And we all learned to tell a lie To our own children about our lives And what we did on moonlit nights Back in the Good Old Days But girls will be girls And boys will be boys They'll raise some hell and They'll make some noise They'll burn time like it was gasoline In the world we'll leave behind And they'll make love beneath that moon Learn too late and die too soon And watch their children slip away Just like the Good Old Days When the Sunshine State was still segregated And white boys played a game
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Maggie McKinney

Story

On a visit to the Keys I realized that we always feel like pirates during our time there. I think most people feel the same way.

Lyrics

Coming out of the Keys I look up in my rear view mirror And see the blue green waters Staring back at me My heart has the pride Of a native daughter And I am smiling through my tears A sailboat floats by Over dark beds of coral The mangrove islands in dark relief A perfect blue sky Blends in with the water As I am leaving the Florida Keys I can still see the pirate ship Slipping out of the mangroves Gliding up to an unwary foe Swooping down like the cormorant diving For his next meal In the water below We all still hope For that thrill of adventure That sends our hearts Reaching up to our throat In the Florida Keys On the edge of the ocean We all feel like pirates Slipping on to the shore (repeat first verse)
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Mike McKinney

Story

I wrote this song in the early 1980s, when all 'live' music played along the Gulf Coast was 'Buffett Music.' It was all anyone wanted to hear, so I would write 'Buffett' songs during the day to play that night in bars along the coast. This was my most requested Jimmy Buffett song, though he's never heard it. I hope I don't owe him royalties....

Lyrics

The poster in the window said 'Fly to the Islands You can leave all your troubles behind' It showed happy men and women Just drinkin' and swimmin' And I thought it'd get you off of my mind So I bought a ticket, caught the very first plane Flew right down to the islands I didn't even think twice Headed down to Paradise Thought I'd have a good time Forget all the pain CHORUS: They say this is the most beautiful place In the world With palm trees swaying Over long-legged tropical girls But I didn't see a thing Except diminishing bottles of gin I spent all three days At the airport Holiday Inn Why put a fool in Paradise? It's only wasted on me Sitting at a laminated bar watching TV I might as well be back home In my neighborhood bar If I wanted to act like a fool I didn't have to go this far CHORUS: Why put a fool in Paradise? It's only wasted on me And it's such a shame To waste Paradise on a fool
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Mike McKinney

Story

This is just what it seems - what Florida means to me - not wistful rivers and endangered species but humidity and heat and hard work and fences that need to be repaired. And thunderstorms. And why I love it all.

Lyrics

Even at midnight it's too hot to sleep So humid it's like living underwater Birds don't sing in the morning trees Clothes stick to my skin I'd pay money for a breeze In Florida Young men get old working in the sun Old men die just to get a day off Women shade their eyes with a glistening hand Not even a cloud to cool the land In Florida So why does my heart beat faster? Why do I love it so? Why do I hate to leave this state And when I do Why do I always want to go back to Florida? My blood runs hot in Florida Believe it or not, it's my Florida Love it or leave it Black clouds stick to the tops of the trees Hard rain beats down on the black dirt There's a hole in the fence where the cows got through Gotta patch it up Just one more thing to do In Florida Dogs lie panting in the shade of the porch Weeds growing up around the car But just remember, if you don't love my state Then stay where the hell you are I'll keep Florida Believe it or not, it's my Florida So Love it, or leave it
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Maggie McKinney

Story

As Florida natives from Pioneer families, we have lived the stories that newcomers write songs about. So every song we write is a Florida song. It's that simple.

Lyrics

I've been livin' the dream all of my life Balanced on the bones of my ancestors Florida sons, Florida daughters Six generations of original investors And you ain't got nothin' new to tell me You ain't got nothin' new Cracker cowboys and Florida cattlemen Jackson's Thieves, Civil War battalions Livin' and dyin' in the Florida swamps And you ain't got nothin' new to tell me You ain't got nothin' new CHORUS: It's in my blood, it's in my bones In every word of every song And I don't have a thing to prove And you ain't got nothin' new to tell me You ain't got nothin' new Florida blood runs through my veins Every patch of ground holds another stain Every drop tells another story You ain't got nothin' new to tell me You ain't got nothin' new CHORUS:
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Mike McKinney

Story

He's only doing what he was born to do. Why all the bad press?

Lyrics

Even before I got to town I had a bad reputation I knew it had something to do with my occupation But I can't help it....it's predestination I'm a snake! The lady in the garden said she was hungry So I offered her some fruit If I'd been a bunny rabbit God would've said, 'Isn't that cute?' But he tossed them out of the Garden And he threw me out to boot - Do you know why? Because I'm a snake! I scare little girls And eat baby birds out of the nest Some people don't like me They say I'm a pest But I'm doing exactly what I was born to do You might say I've been blessed I'm a snake So, when you're out in the garden And you're down on your knees Reaching for a butter bean And your hand's there in the weeds When you feel something slither by Hey....that's me! I'm a snake! Now, we're all a part of the Master Plan A woman's a woman, a man is a man Some people turn out to be Pentecostal Some are Taliban But me? I'm exactly who I say I am! I'm a snake
Lucky Mud
2015-03-02
Maggie McKinney

Story

This song is a celebration as well. A celebration of the beat and rhythm of a born-again Floridian who chose Gainesville as his home. The University of Florida said 'Thank You' by dedicating Bo Diddley Plaza to him.

Lyrics

Hey, Bo Diddley won't you give me that beat? Get up on the floor with your dancing feet From deep in the bowels of the Florida swamp We're gonna do the Bo Diddley Stomp CHORUS: Bo, Bo, Bo Bo Diddley (3 times) We got the rhythm, we got the moves We're gonna dance in our alligator shoes We got the rhythm, we got the beat We gonna take it out to the street CHORUS: Stomp your feet, beat that drum Clap your hands, move your butt We got the rhythm, we got the beat Dance all night in the Florida Heat CHORUS:

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Maggie@Luckymudmusic.com