Charleston is the place I run to
When I need to be just me.
The Southern Drawl I've learned to hide,
Flows out slow a free.

My hurried pace slows likewise,
As I leave behind the hustle.
Tho dressed in jeans and sneakers,
I almost hear my crinolines rustle.

The clip clop of the horses shoes
As they draw the open surrey,
Give vision to a time when folks
Were not in so much a hurry.

The good ole days it's said they were,
A time for which I'm wishin'.
But given the heat and humidity,
I want my room with air condition.