Mr. Errol he lives on the banks of Lake Arthur
Where your windshield gets foggy, where your back roads
unwind
It?s a long way from Shreveport, not too far from Gueydan
And it?s close to the home that I left behind
Yah it?s close to the home that I left behind
Mr. Errol?s a father, he?s a farmer, he?s a hunter
And he talks to the ducks and the geese and the blind
He works hard for the lives that he helps to make better
And he lives by the graveyard of the rusted combines
And he held my hand when my boots got too heavy
With the mud from the rice fields coming to my behind
We set out the decoys in the dark on the levy
And we walked through the graveyard of the rusted combines
There?s coffee and biscuits on the stove in the kitchen
There?s a crack in the ceiling and a screened in front door
And as the fog starts to settle on the banks of Lake Arthur
I can still taste the whiskey from the night just before
It?s the Crown Royal whiskey from the night just before
And it?s hard to get up at five in the morning
Put your guns, put your shells, put your wine in a sack
We look like some militia in our boots and our camo
With a bird dog named Milo, he?s asleep in the back
He held my hand when my boots got too heavy
With the mud from the rice fields coming to my behind
We set out the decoys in the dark on the levy
And we walked through the graveyard of the rusted combines
The combine?s a monster, combine?s a saviour
Looking down at the blades I can see heaven and hell
Cold steel cut the rice crops for acres and acres
Bill how many barrels? Man I cannot tell
Bill how many dryers? Man I cannot tell
From the banks of Lake Arthur to the Mermentau River
There?s water as far as your good eyes can see
At the Lake Arthur bar all the old men get rowdy
They got bottles of whiskey that are older than me
He held my hand when my boots got too heavy
With the mud from the rice fields coming to my behind
We set out the decoys in the dark on the levy
And we walked through the graveyard of the rusted combines
Sometimes I dream of a girl in a pickup
With her window rolled down and her radio on
And you look at the cypress on the Highway 190
And you give her away and you sing Jole Blon
And you give her away and you sing Jole Blon
And Mr. Errol?s a good friend he never a stranger
When I come back it seems like I?ve always been here
There?s a sign in his kitchen it?s written in French
?If you run out of Schlitz, you?ve run out of beer?
He held my hand when my boots got too heavy
With the mud from the rice fields coming to my behind
We set out the decoys in the dark on the levy
And we walked through the graveyard of the rusted combines