I'm Still Very Blunt: If You Want

I Wanted Her To To Go On Talking And Understand Without Me Saying Anything. I Wanted Her To Love Me Enough To Leave Him, To Pack Us Up And Take Us Away From Him, To Kill Him If Need Be. (107)

Two Or Three Things I Know, Two Or Three Things I Know For Sure, And One Of Them Is That To Go On Living I Have To Tell Stories, That Stories Are The One Sure Way I Know To Touch The Heart And Change The World

And Of Course These Days I Feel Like There Is A Nation Of Us - Displaced Southerners And Children Of The Working Class. We Listen To Steve Earle, Mary J. Blige, And K.d. Lang. We Devour Paperback Novels And Tell Evil Mean Stories, Value Stubbornness Above Patience And A Sense Of Humor More Than A College Education. We Claim Our Heritage With A Full Appreciation Of How Often It Has Been Disdained. And Let Me Promise You, You Do Not Want To Make Us Angry.

The Only Magic We Have Is What We Make In Ourselves, The Muscles We Build Up On The Inside, The Sense Of Belief We Create From Nothing.

It Ain't That You Get Religion. Religion Gets You And Then Milks You Dry. Won't Let You Drink A Little Whiskey. Won't Let You Make No Fat-assed Girls Grin And Giggle. Won't Let You Do A Damn Thing Except Work For What You'll Get In The Hearafter. I Live In The Here And Now.