text: Tonight its hot down here
  I can almost smell the rain
  And I can almost taste the fear
  Behind your name
  Fans turning on the ceiling
  I feel sticky as a chili dog
  White boys howling in the evening
  On that hollow log
  Tall tales down the river
  Say we aim to bury the truth
  But the right hand just delivered
  The devil in a suit
  And he talks big in Whitewash County
  Talks sweet as sugar cane
  Got a past thats filled with lightning
  Got a future filled with rain
  Bug buzzing in an empty glass
  Fiddle scratching some lazy tune
  Were just some place that history passed
  New dust, new broom
  And its a high hot buttered moon
  Hes got a shiny new wax face
  Swears the Souths gonna rise again soon
  All over the place
  Rain down on Whitewash County
  Smell the air coming up the line
  Well youve changed your face so often
  But you never change your mind