Canola Fields
I was thinkin' 'bout you crossin' Southern Alberta
Canola fields, on a July day
About the same chartreuse as that '69 Bug
You used to drive around San Jose
Never knew where my old white Lincoln might take me
Party on wheels with suicide doors
Bring the kids, and the dogs, and your grandma, too
We always had room for more
'Til that white-knuckle ride back from Santa Cruz
Second-best surfer on the Central Coast
Had you wrapped up all the way back to Los Gatos
And I coulda cut his throat
And it wasn't like we were an item to start with
It had no basis, in fact
But the whiskey could push me to sudden extremes
I don't wanna think about that
I don't wanna think about that
Take my hand, Marie
Take a death grip on some part of me
Keep me from driftin' far out to sea
Or I'll be lost out there
We all filtered away with the days gettin' shorter
Seekin' our place in the greater scheme
Kids and careers and a vague sense of order
A-bustin' apart at the seams
I heard you switched coasts, moved in with your sister
I doubt you'd have called it "Familial bliss"
We met up in Brooklyn before it went hipster
You carried your keys in your fist
In a way-back corner of a cross-town bus
We were hidin' out under my hat
Cashin' in on a 30-year crush
You can't be young and do that
You can't be young and do that
Take my hand, Marie
Take a death grip on some part of me
Keep me from driftin' far out to sea
Or I'll be lost out there
Or I'll be lost out there
I was thinkin' 'bout you crossin' southern Alberta
Canola fields at harvest time
Looked like tumbleweeds all raked up into rows
In brown rusty contour lines
And there's not much movin' on the romance radar
Not that I'm cravin' it all that much
But I still need to feel every once in a while
The warmth of a smile and a touch
In a way-back corner of a cross-town bus
We were hidin' out under my hat
Cashin' in on a 30-year crush
You can't be young and do that
You can't be young and do that
You can't be young and do that
You can't be young and do that
Take my hand, Marie
Take a death grip on some part of me
Keep me from driftin' far out to sea
Or I'll be lost out there
Or I'll be lost out there
I'll be lost out there
Canola fields, on a July day
About the same chartreuse as that '69 Bug
You used to drive around San Jose
Never knew where my old white Lincoln might take me
Party on wheels with suicide doors
Bring the kids, and the dogs, and your grandma, too
We always had room for more
'Til that white-knuckle ride back from Santa Cruz
Second-best surfer on the Central Coast
Had you wrapped up all the way back to Los Gatos
And I coulda cut his throat
And it wasn't like we were an item to start with
It had no basis, in fact
But the whiskey could push me to sudden extremes
I don't wanna think about that
I don't wanna think about that
Take my hand, Marie
Take a death grip on some part of me
Keep me from driftin' far out to sea
Or I'll be lost out there
We all filtered away with the days gettin' shorter
Seekin' our place in the greater scheme
Kids and careers and a vague sense of order
A-bustin' apart at the seams
I heard you switched coasts, moved in with your sister
I doubt you'd have called it "Familial bliss"
We met up in Brooklyn before it went hipster
You carried your keys in your fist
In a way-back corner of a cross-town bus
We were hidin' out under my hat
Cashin' in on a 30-year crush
You can't be young and do that
You can't be young and do that
Take my hand, Marie
Take a death grip on some part of me
Keep me from driftin' far out to sea
Or I'll be lost out there
Or I'll be lost out there
I was thinkin' 'bout you crossin' southern Alberta
Canola fields at harvest time
Looked like tumbleweeds all raked up into rows
In brown rusty contour lines
And there's not much movin' on the romance radar
Not that I'm cravin' it all that much
But I still need to feel every once in a while
The warmth of a smile and a touch
In a way-back corner of a cross-town bus
We were hidin' out under my hat
Cashin' in on a 30-year crush
You can't be young and do that
You can't be young and do that
You can't be young and do that
You can't be young and do that
Take my hand, Marie
Take a death grip on some part of me
Keep me from driftin' far out to sea
Or I'll be lost out there
Or I'll be lost out there
I'll be lost out there
Credits
Writer(s): James Mcmurtry
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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