White Boys

05:03
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

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