Used To Be

Roadside motor court Cabins made of sandstone And to the travelers of the mother road She was a port in the storm Now if those walls could talk Oh, the stories the could tell son And that roadside motor court It'd keep you safe and warm Now there's holes in the roof And there's weeds at the door That motor courts still there, but it don't see no travellers no more Guess who used to grow cotton on these tired old farms They'd load the wagon time and time again With their weary old arms They'd make a little money at the gin Pay a little credit at the store they scratched and they worked the land Until the dirt got poor Now that cotton gin is some kind of second hand store the building's there, But they don't gin no cotton no more They used to go dancing Down at the Log Cabin Bar There'd be laughing, carrying on Make a little love out in the car They'd spread that sawdust down On a concrete floor They'd dance all night Until they're feet got sore Till one Sunday Morning They had the law burn her down Now there aint no place for us to go Dancin In this one horse town Yeah, we used to dance in this town It's been a long time since tey've seen any travelers The building's still there but they don't gin any cotton There used to be a place to go dance in this town