Apalachicola – Gillian Welch

Apalachicola ain’t my kind of town
Apalachicola ain’t my kind of town
I was going back to Cali
Now I’m Apalachicola bound
And Apalachicola ain’t my kind of town

They hauled me to the station
In a cuff and chains
Hauled me to the station
In a cuff in chains
I was bluer than a bottle
Of Apalachicola rain

I told them I was guilty
Thought I’d rest in jail
Told them I was guilty
Thought I’d rest in jail
But in Apalachicola
They make you fill an orchard pail

Apalachicola ain’t my kind of town
Apalachicola ain’t my kind of town
I was going back to Cali
Now I’m Apalachicola bound
And Apalachicola ain’t my kind of town

Oranges in the summer
Oranges in the fall
Oranges in the wintertime
But they’re tough and small
Then I wish I hadn’t come
To Apalachicola town at all