Christopher Miller

Lyrics

Springfield, Illinois

Illinois, the poet said
Is shaped just like an arrowhead
Piercing the breast of the heartland
The tall green corn is growing strong
In the black dirt by the Sangamon
The graveyards look like callouses
On the palms of the prairie's hands

Springfield, Illinois
Here I have lived
Here I have laughed
Here I have cried
Springfield, Illinois
Here I have loved
Here I have lost
Here I have failed although I tried

Where Abraham Lincoln still walks the streets
At Midnight in this town
He's the vagabond angel
With the tattered wings
Wearing a stove pipe hat
Torn at the crown

It's where I heard lily Faith
Sing the blues
Stood on the sidewalk
Without no shoes
And her song had a sound so sweet and sad
The summer sun fled from the sky
The wind began to wail with the thunder trumpets
It rained cats and dogs
And the lightning struck
And it flooded the city street carnival
On the 4th day of July

Illinois, the wet black loam
Tenderly holds my family's bones
In the earth they worked for a living
Is the cradle where they sleep
And when I die, I'll take to the ground
Until the Judgement Day rolls around
And I'll arise with the other farm families
To see the Lord of the Harvest reap

Springfield, Illinois
You hold the memories I do enjoy
And I embrace the people that I love
When I walk through my thoughts of yesterday
With Abraham Lincoln, I'll walk the night
In the blue haze of your streetlights
'Neath the silent moon
That sees all of those
Who have come and have passed away

Illinois, the poet said
Is shaped just like an arrowhead
Piercing the breast of the heartland
The tall green corn is growing strong
In the black dirt by the Sangamon
The graveyards look like callouses
On the palms of the prairie's hands