This week’s song lyrics is a song I perform sometimes when I do my one-man show. It’s by Guy Clark and it’s called, “Magnolia Wind.”

I’d rather sleep in a box
Like a bum on the street
Than a fine feather bed
Without your little ole cold feet.

And I rather be deaf
Dumb and stone blind
Than to know that your mornings
Will never be mine.

I’d rather die young
Than live without you
And I’d rather go hungry
Than to eat lonesome stew.

You know it’s once in a lifetime
And it won’t come again,
It’s here and it’s gone
On a Magnolia wind.

CHORUS:
I’d rather not walk
Through the garden again
If I can’t catch your scent
On a Magnolia wind.

So if it ever comes time
And it comes time to go
Just pack up your fiddle
Just pack up your clothes.

If I can’t dance with you
Then I won’t dance at all
I’ll just sit this one out
With my back to the wall.

Chorus:
I’d rather not hear
Pretty music again,
If I can’t catch your fiddle
On the Magnolia wind.
If I can’t catch your scent
On a Magnolia wind.

WRITING QUOTE OF THE WEEK: (From Writing From Personal Experience by Nancy Kelton)

“Writers, by their nature, spend their time thinking about, wondering about, delving into, trying to understand the very things that the rest of the world doesn’t like to think about”–Harry Crews.