Back to Natchitoches

Big city living can be so unforgiving:
people running ’round everywhere.
Good chance your neighbors don’t care
if you ain’t got a dollar to spare.
Everyone looking for the next thing cooking,
but ending up hungry and mean –
man, that’s just not my scene.
I’d much rather just kick back and lean
against the front porch.

Honey, don’t you wish
we could go back to Natchitoches,
live that sweet, simple life once again:
hanging with a few old friends
where the winding of the Cane River ends?
Wouldn’t it be nice to walk under the city lights
with that bright Christmas moon up above?
You and I could fall in love
all over again.

Big city bustle, the heartache, the hustle
of keeping ahead of the game
seems a mite bit insane
to anyone with half a brain.
Everyone crowded inside of a powder keg
shouting to hear themselves talk
behind their doublebolt locks.
I’d much rather just take a walk
through the pine trees.

Honey, don’t you wish
we were back home in Natchitoches
living the sweet, simple life once again;
hanging out with some new friends
where the winding of the Cane River ends?
Wouldn’t it be great
out at the pier on Sibley Lake
watching the lazy summer sun going down?
Where else is it so fine
just being in love?

Some tie their fate
to bright lights and the interstate,
hoping they’ll get pretty far.
Me I’ll stay satisfied
down by the riverside
my wagon hitched to a star.

23 NOV 2005

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