Dear Harry,
I've never sent a telegram before.
I drove all the way to town in a downpour,
So I sure hope this reaches you in time for your vote today.
I'm real proud you hold that office, and Son,
There's something I must say.
Your father gave his life in the Great War three years ago.
I know I'll be kicked out of Muckman County for saying so.
I hate this president for making him go,
And I wish I'd had the right to vote him out.
Now, I know I'm just an old farmer, milking cows in Tennessee,
But I read the paper and I've seen the women marching to be free.
They made me think that maybe I could hop a train to Washington DC and march too.
Only I was home raising you, so I did my best to teach you what I knew.
Now your own little girl is nearly three.
What do you want her future to be?
Will you vote for her, my son?
Let your mama know she raised a good one.
And oh, I made that meatloaf you like, so come on home when you're done.
Burn, burn for Christ sakes, burn!
We did it with lots of love.
Mama