Sittin' On The Front Porch Swing

I remember a time when the bloom was on the cotton

When our hearts chased the clouds like the swallow on the wing

When our cares which were already few, some forgotten

Just sitting on the front porch swing

Oh we'd sit every Sunday, and watch the married ladies

And we'd dream of white dresses and church bells in the spring

And they'd talk and paint their nails while they let us hold their babies

Sitting on the front porch swing

Where was I when the time came to join the married ladies

Why did I paint the nail when the finger had no ring

Why do I sit at my age and long to hold their babies

Sitting on the front porch swing

When the mind longs to follow, but the memory erases

And the lips form the words that the heart no longer sings

When the leaves in the hollow have been dyed to match our faces

Sitting on the front porch swing

Oh we'll dream of the time when the bloom was on the cotton

When our hearts chased the clouds like the swallow on the wing

But the words to the rhyme are not the only things forgotten

Sitting on the front porch swing

Sitting on the front porch swing