He was born in the Louisiana bayous
On a hot September morn
Cypress trees were shaking violently
In the strong Gulf wind storm

His mama lay there wailing
His papa took a sip of the vine
When he heard his newborn man child cry
He named him Brandywine

Brandy grew up to be a handsome boy
All the pretty ladies came around
When he got to be old enough
His father took him into town

To the House of the Rising Syn
Where women there were fine
To the House of the Rising Syn
Where rich ladies all bought their Brandywine

Marie Castille was a very rich woman
She could have herself any man
When she and her friends entered the Syn
Brandy took her by the hand

Long before the night was through
Before the dawn lit up the sky
Marie knew she'd found a young man
She would love 'til the day she died

She took him back to her Georgia home
To the house her granddaddy built
Made love to him in her big brass bed
Between sheets of burgundy silk

The ladies missed him at the Rising Syn
Where the men were all sublime
At the House of the Rising Syn
The sweetest lover had been their Brandywine

Marie bought for him an XK-C
And everything he'd ever need
But all Brandy really wanted
Were the arms of his sweet Marie

He'd never known compassion
Had never had someone to care
Marie gave him what he needed
And he loved his lady fair

The differences in their ages
Mattered not at all to him
He knew he'd always love her
His passion would never dim

So they say if you were ever in Albany
And you saw a couple strolling there
He with his raven black shiny curls
She with her snow-white hair

You should not mistake in thinking
That the two were mother and son
It was just Brandy and his darling Marie
Living life, making love, having fun

But all good things must come to an end
All things living will die
In his arms Marie took her very last breath
As she gazed into his amber eyes

They buried her in the pouring rain
Surely heaven was shedding those tears
For the loss of a love that had deepened
And had lasted for twenty-nine years

Brandy could not endure the grieving
He would not be consoled
He took to his bed never to rise
For her loss had taken its toll

He took one last look at her picture
Took one last, shuddering breath
Gave his soul unto the Lord for keeping
And embraced the comfort of death.

Some say lovers are like an endless wheel
And can't stand with the coming apart
I believe such words are fatefully true
For Brandy died of a broken heart.

They laid him 'neath the green, green grass
His spirit at last was free
His journey is done, he's on his way home
To the arms of his precious Marie.

Now they mourn him at the Rising Syn
Where the women there are cryin'
They mourn him at the Rising Syn
Where the ladies all miss their Brandywine