A Peanut Farmer Goes Home

Lyrics

[Intro]

Jimmy, October 1, 1924, you came into this world here in Plains,
The smallest town to cradle a president, population 683 on the last count.

[Verse 1]
In the peanut warehouse on Hudson Street,
Burlap sacks stacked high, the manual sheller cranking,
Metal hopper grinding, wooden base worn smooth from your hands.
You, James Earl Carter Jr., morphine scars from the war faded,
But the earth clung to you, dry dust and peanut shells underfoot.
Rosalynn by your side, Eleanor Rosalynn Smith, August 18, 1927,
Her voice soft in the dim light, planning beyond these walls.

[Chorus]
Oh, warehouse of Plains, you hold the weight of seeds,
Boiled peanuts simmering in salty water, soft and giving,
Like the faith you taught at Maranatha Baptist,
Sunday mornings, wooden pews creaking, ceiling fans whirring at 68 degrees.
You've seen the boy from Archery farm rise to white houses,
And return, always return, to this trembling earth.

[Verse 2]
Remember the killer rabbit in the pond, April 20, 1979,
You paddling back, laughing later at the press frenzy,
But here, in the boyhood farm, the windmill drawing water since 1935,
Cotton fields and that 1940s Ford tractor, rusted red,
You plowed these rows, chores at dawn, 6 a.m. sharp.
Rosalynn's blue folders stacked in the Carter Center office,
Her words: four kinds of people, caregivers all,
Mental health whispers in Atlanta halls, November 19, 2023, she left us.

[Bridge]

Plains, you with your green campaign buttons pinned,
Peanut brittle sticky on festival tables,
The plaque at the National Historical Park, 1997 inscription,
Telling of warehouses and Sunday schools,
A life counting for something, faith demanding action.

[Verse 3]
Now at 99, you sit in the church on Church Street,
Teaching lessons from worn Bibles, voices echoing softly,
The stained-glass light filtering, warm on your face.
Warehouse shadows long in July afternoons,
Scent of roasted nuts and dust, forever home.

[Outro]

Jimmy, Rosalynn, Plains holds you gentle,
In this smallest of hometowns, your one life echoes.