In south West Virginia, and poverty stricken,
two singers were born with the same surname: Dickens.
Little Jimmy lit out and he conquered the south,
a diminutive man with a very big mouth.
Hazel went east, where she worked in the city,
Her songs full of pain, her voice lonesome and gritty.
I'm told they're related; I'm not sure how close,
they might be third cousins, or second at most,
but the difference is sharp twixt our two heroes Dickens,
she observed like a bird while he crowed with the chickens.
You can pick out a favorite, there's no harm in this.
I've got my preference, I won't tell you which.
But I'm thankful for both, and the music they sang,
for Hazel and Jimmy, the yin and the yang.
Monday, August 1, 2011
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