|
Angeline, Angeline, darker nights I've never seen |
|
I don't love these East Texas pines |
|
Where I can't find my sleep in the shadows so deep |
|
And dark as the doubts in my mind |
|
Freight train on the trestle rolling east towards the Natchez |
|
Like the one I got off of so long ago |
|
Outside of a small town where I didn't mean to settle down |
|
Not knowing the seeds I would sow |
|
Barefoot in the autumn weeds, cotton dress hanging to your knees |
|
To the eyes of a stranger you offered a smile |
|
Took a job in your daddy's fields, didn't seem like such a bad deal |
|
At least it would do for a while |
|
We were both young and unabashed, we took what life offered |
|
While your folks were distracted or too tired to care |
|
As the cold gripped the land the fates forced our hand |
|
Your dresses fit tighter with the spring in the air |
|
Now I watch the trains rattle on from the seat of the tractor |
|
Your daddy's old harness still hangs in the barn |
|
And your mama don't like it that our children all scattered |
|
She swears it's my blood, it was not meant to farm |
|
And you and I don't talk a lot, we don't really have to |
|
We've spent many a year reading each other's minds |
|
We gave up the lightning, now we don't bother fighting |
|
These things will happen in time |
|
Angeline, Angeline, darker nights I've never seen |
|
I don't love these East Texas pines |
|
Where I can't find my sleep in the shadows so deep |
|
And dark as the doubts in my mind |
