GI remember the Asmell Dof the creosote plant
when wEe'd have to F#meat on GdimEaster E7with my Acrazy old Bmuncle and CdimauntA
GThey lived in a Abig house DAntebellum style
and the Gwind would Dblow across the Gold bayDou
and AI was a tranquil little Dchild
DLife was just a tBmire swing
'Jambalaya' was the Gonly song I cDould sing
GBlack-berry pickin', Deatin' fried chicken
and I Gnever knew a Dthing about Apain
Life was just a Bmtire 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
'Jambalaya' was the only song I could sing
Chasin' after sparrows with rubber-tipped arrows
knowin' I could never hurt a thing
and life was just a tire swing
BmAnd I've Gnever been west of F#mNew Orleans nor Emeast of PensaDcola
My Gonly contact with the F#moutside world was an E7R.C.A. VicAtrola
And BmElvis would sing and then I'd dream aAbout expensive cars
and E7who would've figured twenty years later
I'd be Arubbin' shoulders E7with the starsF#m7
Life was just a Bmtire 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 I could see it hangin' from a tree
and I knew that I had survived
Life was just a tire swing
'Jambalaya's still the best song that I sing
Black-berry pickin', eatin' fried chicken
And I finally learned a lot about pain
'Cause life is just a tire swing
Life was just a tire swing