Down in this valley,
a traffic jam at the light,
This car’s not a jail,
not Birmingham jail.
Still, stuck in this car, love, I
can’t hear the wind blow.
Down in this valley,
in this valley so low, I
can’t see the sky, love,
I can’t see the sky.
No roses are red, love, no
violets are blue,
not in this car, love,
not in this car. You’re not in
this car, love, you’re not
with me in this car,
not stuck in a traffic jam,
not stuck at the light.
It’s not Birmingham
jail, this car’s not a jail. Still,
I can’t see the sky.
Down in this valley,
in this valley so low, I
can’t hear the wind blow,
Roy Herndon Smith
dust 