lyrics by Jackson Dawes

No, I don't hate it because it's a bad place, although it is I don't hate it because it's a place of rural blight of crumbling despair, although it is that too I don't even hate it because I'm a New York liberal commie fag with no respect for real American values although that much is true as well. I hate it because it scared me. You see a lot in the naked city that makes you think you're prepared for anything I go to sleep to the soothing lullaby of car alarms smashed windows, anger and fear and pain I've dispassionately watched them hosing blood off the street 30 feet from my bedroom window I even took pictures The cops pulled a guy with a gun off our fire escape landing a few months ago And yet Horse Creek scared the everlovin' crap out of me I suppose a sociological argument can be made for the difference between poverty and entrenched poverty Upon entering and passing the burned-out gas station I was treated to a fairly common rural experience At some point I turned into a residential community charmingly named Pawpaw and it was if the matrix had been peeled back Not just poverty, but entrenched, ignored poverty long since adapted to Crumbling shacks, dogs chained to trees, cars on cinder blocks Did I fear for my safety? Hell yeah I did An Acura 3.2 TL with New York plates? You better believe I did But it went deeper than that I've seen people give up. I've even seen whole neighborhoods give up But this was generations upon generations having lost faith in anything better. I returned at twilight, when the branches of trees reached out like thin, hungry embracing arms, ready to welcome me welcome me FOREVER! The beauty of the Kentucky sunset was such a lovely, horrible contrast to the houses that had crumbled 60 years ago and had been left just as they were. I don't know if police even bother in there but I know my cellphone had no bars And I'm sure I would have squealed like a pig for some mountain men with pitchforks duct-taped to shotguns if they had wanted me to But the fear I felt was deeper than that Maybe I was seeing for the first time the true cost of me and people like me living in upper-middle class comfort guilt over northern intellectuals oohing and aahing over the work of Appalachian photojournalists as if it were a glossy hardcover freak show Maybe my soul was crying out to those victims of decades of social neglect Or maybe there was something inherently evil about Horse Creek to which people had adjusted. I don't expect I'll ever see Kentucky again except maybe from 35,000 feet but if I ever do, I plan to return to Horse Creek, and go up Pawpaw It's time I faced my fears I'll be bringing several armed guards a therapist, a backup generator, some lighting rigs Some Benadryl to take the edge off and a few more armed guards besides the other ones it really is time I faced my fears.