Theyâve got telephone poles where our trees had been,
They ripped up our pasture, put a sidewalk in,
Yeah, the big voice of Progress said, âYouâve gotta go!â
âWeâre gonna lay us a black-top road, Weâre gonna lay us a black-top roadâ
Well they tore down the house my great granddaddy built,
Where my grandpa was born and my Mama took her first steps.
But nobody cared about the stories it told,
The spot was just right for a black-top road,
was the perfect spot for a black-top road.
Black-top road, black top road, theyâre gonna lay them a black-top road.
Donât you try to complain, you just do as youâre told,
get out the way of that black-top road.
Grandma planted these flowers back when she was my age.
And they still bloom here every year, âthough sheâs gone to her grave.
But they wonât be here tomorrow and that I know,
Theyâre gonna pave âem right over with a Black-top Road,
Cover âem over with a black-top road. We cried, âThis canât happen in the U.S.Aâ.
They said, âYouâd better shut up or weâll take your farm awayâ
But then theyâd thought theyâd be friendly,
maybe throw us a bone: They slapped our family name on that Black-Top Road.
Now our family nameâs on that Black-Top Road.