(flies on the butter)
(allen shamblin/austin cunningham/chuck cannon)
Old tin roofleaves in the gutter
A hole in the screen door big as your fist and flies on the butter
Mamaw baking sugar cookieswe were watching cartoons
Heard her holler from the kitchen which one of you youngens wants to lick the spoon
Yellow jackets on the watermelonhoneysuckle in the air
Daddy turning on the sprinklerus kids running through it in our underwear
Old dog napping on the front porchhis ear just a twitching
Fall asleep on granddaddy’s lap to the sound of his pocket watch ticking
Ohohoh — ohohoh
It doesn’t feel like it was all that long ago
Ohohoh — ohohoh
You can dream about it every now and then
But you can’t go home again
Me and my best friend vickieset up a backyard camp
Stole one of mama’s mason jarspoked holes in the lid and made a firefly lamp
Me and jimmy monroesneaking down by the river
I’m still haunted by the taste of a kiss I didn’t get ’cause he was too chicken liver
Ohohoh — ohohoh
It doesn’t feel like it was all that long ago
Ohohoh — ohohoh
You can dream about it every now and then
But you can’t go home again
There’s a blacktop roada faded yellow centerline
And it can take you back to the placebut it can’t take you back in time
Ohohoh — ohohoh
It doesn’t feel like it was all that long ago
Ohohoh — ohohoh
You can dream about it every now and then
But you can’t go home again
Old tin roofleaves in the gutter
A hole in the screen door big as your fist and flies on the butter