A week in back Vacherie

"It's opener dere
In de wide-open air,"
I heard de Doctor say.

I found dat line
To be trut'ful in rhyme
In a town call' back Vacherie.

De moon was red,
An' de kids was fed;
I sat alone in de parking lot gazin'

De stars was bright
In de cool, clea' night
As de worries o' life got to fadin'

De breeze blew over de corn fields slow
Saturn and Mars in de sout'ern sky glowed
An' a grand silhouette in de fo'ground stood
Dat ol' church as de crux o' de ol' neighborhood.

Back Vacherie, flat as de ocean is deep
An' as peaceful an' quiet as de mountains is steep.
A man who sits rockin' in a rickety chair
Who knows what is poverty, pain, and a pray'r

Yet his smile is big
As he surveys a fig
An' invites you inside a' his song

Wit dat slow Cajun dance
An' dat cane field romance
Sha, you cain't help but sing right a-long.