COTTON FIELDS
Hazey Jane gathers the rain
It’s time that I feel it again
It’s time enough to mourn
When all the highways align
Align with the blood red sky
And American dreams fall and rise
I wish I was anywhere in cotton fields
I wish I was anyone so I could feel
That old familiar train a-runnin’
With the starlight in your eyes, bright eyes
Taking to the highway to drive
With dreams and yellow lines
East of the Mississippi divide
And into the field we run
East of the setting sun
East of the Mississippi divide
The west wind blows cold against my face
Like all our promises we made in haste
The sun’s too far to warm your brow
The sun’s too far to warm your brow
copyright American Accent 2004©
