Tom: D
Introdução: Bm
G A D
I remember the smell of the creosote plant
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when we'd have to eat on Easter with my crazy old uncle and aunt
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They lived in a big house Antebellum style
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and the wind would blow across the old bayou
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and I was a tranquil little child
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Life was just a tire swing
G D
'Jambalaya' was the only song I could sing
G D
Black-berry pickin', eatin' fried chicken
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and I never knew a thing about pain
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Life was just a tire swing
In a few summers my folks packed me off to camp
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And I've never been west of New Orleans nor east of Pensacola
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My only contact with the outside world was an R.C.A. Victrola
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And Elvis would sing and then I'd dream about expensive cars
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and who would've figured twenty years later
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I'd be rubbin' shoulders with the stars
Bm
Life was just a tire swing
Then the other morning on some Illinois road