There is a place we used to go
A river, a stone and the crooked tree
Wading in that water don’t seem to help no more
Give me back my memories
I hear your voice ringing down these halls
See your eyes in the fallen leaves
Hold your hand at the Bushy Creek falls
Give me back my memories
I’ll be standing at the tracks
Waiting on a train
To pick me up and take me where
You aren’t so heavy on my brain
I’ll smile for you, momma, but it wont hold out too long
Pass me some more whiskey, and put that old tea kettle on
I can’t blame you for leaving now
But there’s a cage in my head and you hold the key
Put the kibosh down on on the where, when and how
Give me back my memories
It’s number 8 to Nashville, 10 to New Orleans
Number 9 just takes me home where you still plague my dreams
I never feel like sleeping, don’t feel like waking up
Pass me a little codeine, and put some red wine in my cup
(Davis) |