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I'd rather sleep in a box like a bum on the street
Than a fine feather bed without your little ol' cold feet
And I'd rather be deaf, dumb and stone blind
Than to know that your mornings will never be mine
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 that it comes time to go
Sis' pack up your fiddle, Sis' pack up your bow
If I can't dance with you, well, then I won't dance at all
I'll just sit this one out with my back to the wall
I'd rather not hear pretty music again
If I can't catch your fiddle on a magnolia wind
I'd rather die young than to live without you
I'd rather go hungry than to eat lonesome stew
It's once in a lifetime and it won't come again
Now it's here and it's gone on a magnolia wind
I'd rather not walk through the garden again
If I can't catch your scent on a magnolia wind
If I can't catch your fiddle on a magnolia wind
- Álbum:
- My Favorite Picture Of You
- Somedays the Song Writes You
- Miscellaneous
- Dublin Blues
- Keepers
- Old Friends
- Boats To Build
- Better Days
- Cold Dog Soup
- Songbird: Rare Tracks & Forgotten Gems
- Americana Master Series: Best of the Sugar Hill Years
- Workbench Songs
- The South Coast of Texas
- Guy Clark: The Platinum Collection
- The Platinum Collection
- The South Coast Of Texas (US Release)
- The Essential Guy Clark
- Old No. 1
- Paste Sampler 102
- Oxford American Southern Music Issue 2014