This is called "Alabama, circular 1961, a ballad
by John Coltrane."
But shouldn't this state have a song?
Long and gliding figures of my breath of breath lost.
Somebody can't sing because somebody is gone.
Shouldn't this landscape hold a true anthem?
What you can't do.
Whom you can't invent.
Where you can't stay.
Why you won't keep it.
But shouldn't this state have a song?
And shall we call it my face will murder me?
And shall we call it I'm not waiting?"