| Gulf Coast Highway, he worked the rails
|
| He worked the rice fields with their cool dark wells
|
| He worked the oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico
|
| The only thing we’ve ever owned is this old house here by the road
|
| And when he dies, he says, he’ll catch some blackbird’s wing
|
| And he will fly away to Heaven, come some sweet bluebonnet spring
|
| She walked through springtime when I was home
|
| The days were sweet, the nights were warm
|
| The seasons changed, the jobs would come the flowers fade
|
| This old house felt so alone when the work took me away
|
| And when she dies, she says, she’ll catch some blackbird’s wing
|
| And she will fly away to Heaven, come some sweet bluebonnet spring
|
| Highway 90, the jobs are gone
|
| We tend our garden, we set the sun
|
| This is the only place on earth bluebonnets grow
|
| Once a year they come and go at this old house here by the road
|
| And when we die, we say, we’ll catch some blackbird’s wing
|
| And we will fly away to heaven, come some sweet bluebonnet spring
|
| And when we die, we say, we’ll catch some blackbird’s wing
|
| And we will fly away together, come some sweet bluebonnet spring |