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Highway 40 roll on by. |
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If I could reach across the distance for a moment, |
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I'd steal the sadness from her eyes. |
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It's February and the weather's clear for driving, |
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How I've missed your Tennessee. |
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The morning sun just stole the shadows from the mountains, |
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And the years away from me. |
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Yes I've changed and I knew that I was able, |
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But you still look the same to me. |
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And your eyes are just as blue across the table, |
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As the sky in Tennessee. |
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This old farm is ne'er so big as I remember, |
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Now the fields are burned and brown. |
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The Pigeon River's running deeper than December, |
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Where the Winter snows lay down. |
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How you love your house and this long bed sent from Kenya, |
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And the telling of the story of the woman you met there. |
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She's a darkhaired beauty - my hair's only growing thinner, |
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And my threads a little bare. |
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Yes I've changed and I knew that I was able, |
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But you still look the same to me. |
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And your eyes are just as blue across the table, |
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As the sky in Tennessee. |
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In the silence hear the years, we dare not speak of, |
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Let this arrow pass on through. |
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And I'll be gone before my heart has met resistance, |
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Like you hoped that I would do. |
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See the Redtail turn her wing toward the mountain, |
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God there's sunlight in your smile. |
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If I could reach across the distance for a moment, |
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I'd steal her memory from your eyes. |
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|
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Yes I've changed and I knew that I was able, |
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But you still look the same to me. |
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And your eyes are just as blue across the table, |
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As the sky in Tennessee. |
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As the sky in Tennessee. |
