"Southern Blackwater"

#rockmusic #countrymusic #darkcountry #songwriter #redheadusmcwife #stephaniegordon7070 "Southern Blackwater" written and performed by Stephanie L. Gordon, also known as @redheadusmcwife, The events, characters, and names in this song and video are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people, events, or photos is purely coincidental. This music video contains materials used under the Fair Use guidelines of Section 107 of the Copyright Act. All rights remain with the copyright owners. ©2026 @redheadusmcwife @stephaniegordon7070. Any unauthorized reproduction will result in immediate legal action. Created by Stephanie Gordon @redheadusmcwife @stephaniegordon7070.    • "Southern Blackwater"   https://suno.com/s/JoaJ7Uuh3rMCY4QR "Southern Blackwater" (Acoustic guitar rings out with a slow, raspy, haunting strum, the tempo feels heavy and lived-in, like porch boards shifting in the heat) (Verse 1) Sun beats down on a tin-roof shroud Cicadas screamin’ a murder sound Rust on the plow, mud in the well Dixie’s backbone, or a circle of hell We got sugar in the tank, we got blood on the boot Rotten to the core, gnawin’ at the root Blackwater runnin’ deep through the pines Hangin’ like moss on the devil’s design Southern thing! Yeah, we go whole hog! Runnin’ wild through the swamp like a rabid-ass dog! We’re sweatin’ like a whore in church in the heat Prayin’ to a god with his back to the street (Pre-Chorus) (Rolling hypnotic bass kicks in, heavy snare and cymbal impact) Feel the ground shift beneath the red clay Wash the sin off, but it don't wash away Hear the iron rail rattle in the dark of the wood Ain't nobody round here makin’ out good (Chorus) (Explosive choruses, distorted rock guitars, crying steel guitar, mournful fiddle) Oh, let the cypress groan! Let the copperhead rattle on the threshold stone! We bleed red dirt, we burn blue flame Ain't a river deep enough to wash out the stain! Yeah, we southern-bound, draggin’ our chains Hear the thunder roll over backroad veins! (Verse 2) (Double-time swamp stomp, whiskey-soaked female lead shifts into rapid rhythmic rap verses) Puttin' pins in the doll, pourin' salt on the slug Got a jug of moonshine under the rug Moss-draped trees lookin’ down like judges Holdin' onto eighty-year family grudges Grit in the teeth, rust on the tongue Hangin' by a thread where the willow-witch hung Got a gator in the bayou, iron in the fire Spun round and round in a barbed-wire gyre You can run till your soles burn clean to the bone But this acreage claims what it calls its own! (Pre-Chorus) (Bass pulses, guitar feedback swells) Feel the ground shift beneath the red clay Wash the sin off, but it don't wash away Hear the iron rail rattle in the dark of the wood Ain't nobody round here makin’ out good (Chorus) (Explosive choruses, full band distortion, wailing steel and fiddle) Oh, let the cypress groan! Let the copperhead rattle on the threshold stone! We bleed red dirt, we burn blue flame Ain't a river deep enough to wash out the stain! Yeah, we southern-bound, draggin’ our chains Hear the thunder roll over backroad veins! (Bridge) (Stripped heartbeat-and-fiddle, raw, haunting, intimate vocal rasp) Midnight rolls, and the screen door slams Nothin' left here worth savin’ or damn Just the hum of the wire and the breath in the lung And the songs that the hanging-tree branches sung... Yeah... the songs they sung... (Guitar feedback builds back into the heavy groove) (Chorus) (Maximum intensity, explosive rock and swamp stomp fusion) Oh, let the cypress groan! Let the copperhead rattle on the threshold stone! We bleed red dirt, we burn blue flame Ain't a river deep enough to wash out the stain! Yeah, we southern-bound, draggin’ our chains Hear the thunder roll over backroad veins! (Outro) (Tempo slows down abruptly, back to just the slow acoustic guitar ring and a mournful fiddle fade) Whole hog. Rabid dog. Sweatin' out the fever in the pew. Nothin' left for me... And nothin' left for you. (Acoustic string snaps)