Palmetto rose in the AC vent Cross-stitched pillow where the head rest went He said his cab was his orneriest friend Left him jumping like trees in the wind Thought he had the red lights memorized Glass in the gravel like the stars in the sky In that slow motion minute between living and dead Looked in my eyes and he told me, he said This war that I wage to get up every day It's a fiberglass boat, it's azaleas in May It's the women I love and the law that I hate Lord, let me die in the Iodine State Lord, let me die in the Iodine State Palmetto rose in the sidewalk mud Pearly-white stem and a big green bud Catch him coming out of a King Street store Bullshit story about the Civil War You can believe what you want to believe But there ain't no making up a basket weave Everybody in the tri-county knows Who makes the best palmetto rose And it's war that we wage to get up every day It's a basket of sweet grass, a wedding bouquet It's the ladies I love and the law that I hate But Lord, let me die in the Iodine State Lord, let me die in the Iodine State And out on Sullivan's Island, they're swimming On the beach where the big boats rolled in With the earliest slaves, women and children Our first American kin Here on King Street we're selling our roses Two for a five-dollar bill And tonight after everything closes I'll follow my own free will And I've taken my fill I've taken my fill