Lyrics of
Tillman Co

Mother Red River, she wind like a copperhead
Coils and boils over Dennison Dam
Little white houses, eggs on the rocky bed
I am the son of the serpent, I am
Raised on the river, washed in the blood
Blood runs thicker than bottomland mud
And the wheel sinks deeper as the years spin 'round
Thirty bad summers in Tillman County
My uncle, Little Tree, dreams of another life
Coddles his cattle and he rents his range
Holds the fan to the face of his pretty wife
She knows nothing ain't ever gonna change, she was
Raised on the river, washed in the blood
Blood runs thicker than bottomland mud
And the wheel sinks deeper as the years spin 'round
Thirty bad summers in Tillman County
And daylight's dragon fence-line
Keeps me working in this trance
Pounding down the bedrock
With this rusty lance
We don't stand a chance
Chikasha trickster call to the funnel cloud
Demon come screaming over Wichita falls
Lines down, power out, lying and points south
Time and direction don't matter at all when you're
Raised on the river, washed in the blood
Blood runs thicker than bottomland mud
And the wheel sinks deeper as the years spin 'round
Thirty bad summers in Tillman County
Maybe old Moses come and turn this current back
Cross me over, ever holy and dry
Climb me a crooked oak, scar-faced, bible-black
Swing this shovel 'til it cracks the sky, I was
Raised on the river, washed in the blood
Blood runs thicker than bottomland mud
And the wheel sinks deeper as the years spin 'round
Thirty bad summers in Tillman County
Thirty bad summers in Tillman County
Thirty bad summers in Tillman County