Jimmy Buffett

I Remember The Smell Of The Creosote Plant,

When We'd Have To Eat On Easter With My

Crazy Old Uncle And Aunt.

They Lived In A Big House Ante Bellum Style,

And The Wind Would Blow Across The Old Bayou,

And I Was A Tranquil Little Child.



Life Was Just A Tire Swing.

'Jambalaya' Was The Only Song I Could Sing.

Blackberry Pickin', Eatin' Fried Chicken,

And I Never Knew A Thing About Pain.

Life Was Just A Tire Swing.



In A Few Summers My Folks Packed Me Off To Camp;

Yeah, Me And My Cousin' Baxter

In Our Pup Tent With A Lamp.

And In A Few Days Baxter Went Home,

And He Left Me By Myself.

And I Knew That I'd Stay, It Was Better That Way,

And I Could Get Along Without Any Help.

Life Was Just A Tire Swing.



And I've Never Been West Of New Orleans

Nor East Of Pensacola.

My Only Contact With The Outside

World Was A N RCA Victrola.

Elvis Would Sing And Then I'd Dream About

Expensive Cars, And Who Would've Figured Twenty

Years Later I'd Be Rubbing Shoulders With The Stars.

Life Was Just A Tire Swing.



'Jambalaya' Was The Only Song I Could Sing.

Chasin' After Sparrows With Rubber Tip Arrows,

Knowin' I Could Never Hurt A Thing,

And Life Was Just A Tire Swing.



Then The Other Morning On Some Illinois Road

I Fell Asleep At The Wheel,

But Was Quickly Wakened Up By A 'Ma Bell'

Telephone Pole, And A Bunch Of Grant Wood

Faces Screaming, 'Is He Still Alive?'

But Through The Window Could See

It Hangin' From A Tree, And I Knew

I Had Survived.



Life Was Just A Tire Swing.

Jambalaya's Still The Best Song That I Can Sing.

Blackberry Pickin', Eatin' Fried Chicken,

And I Finally Learned A Lot About Pain,

'cause Life Is Just A Tire Swing.