BARBECUE BLUES (FROM "NORTH CAROLINA IS MY HOME")

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Song Title
BARBECUE BLUES (FROM "NORTH CAROLINA IS MY HOME")
Writers
Charles Kuralt, Loonis Mcglohon
Publisher
MELODY TRAILS INC. (BMI)
% Publisher Controls
100%
Territory Controlled
WORLD
Lyrics
(Spoken)
The waiter brought the champagne
And discreetly popped the cork,
In a fancy French restaurant
On the east side of New York.
The customer sipped it glumly
With his caviar souffle.
I could see his heart was heavy,
And his mind was far away.
He said:

(sung)
I was raised on black-eyed peas
And barbecue,
And butter beans and turnip greens
And Brunswick stew,
And ev’ry time I drink champagne,
I yearn for buttermilk
From Grandma’s butter churn.

(Spoken)
Then they served his pate
From the liver of a goose.
Then they served his quiche Lorraine
And his chocolate mousse.
When they brought his cognac,
He just shook his head,
And he looked at me with sadness,
And this is what he said.
He said:

(sung)
I was fed on cracklin’ bread
And country ham
And sausage meat and hominy
And candied yams.
I’ve had a taste of
All the world’s cuisines.
I wish I had a mess of
Collard greens.




-2-
(Spoken)
He said his butler always
Serves him breakfast in bed.
Said he orders buttermilk biscuits
And gets croissants instead.
Said they serve him Belgian waffles
No matter how he begs
For country ham, gravy, grits and eggs.
He said:

(sung)
Now, excuse me, friend,
But tears come to my eyes,
Each time I think about
My mama’s apple pies
And sourwood honey
From my papa’s hives.
Oh, sometimes men leave home
And ruin their lives.

(Spoken)
He said, “Friend, you get
Awful tired of brie.
If you’re goin’ down home,
Tell ‘em this for me.
Just this one thing,
Tell ‘em, I implore ya,
They don’t serve chicken and dumplings
At the Waldorf Astoria.” He said”

(sung)
Oh, I’ve had those escargots
That they serve in France.
You pay your francs
And give your thanks
And take your chance,
And when I eat lasagna
Down in Rome,
I’m thinkin’ ‘bout
That liver mush back home.

(Spoken)
Then he nodded to the waiter
And sadly paid his bill
And took his leave of me,
And I can see him still,
With his head bowed down,
-3-
As he wandered forth,
A Tar Heel starving in the North.
He said:

(sung)
Now I’m eatin’ sturgeon eggs
They serve on toast
And thinkin’ ‘bout the good food
That I want the most,
Like barbecue and roastin’ ears of corn
From the North Carolina farm
Where I was born.

(Spoken)
Young folks, think on that man’s folly
Before you board the bus in Raleigh
And head north for fame and fortune.
Just beware!
They have limousines and designer jeans
And diamond rings and such-like things,
But there’s nothing to eat up there!

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