Red Buds

The wind blows hard up in whipoorwill hill

and the red buds sway in the breeze

If you listen real close you can hear

the desperate cry of a broken man on his knees

The rain beats hard on a poor man's head

The wind pulls the nails out of the tin roof of the shed

and the water keeps on rising

at the old homestead

If the corn's knee high by the fourth of July

and mother nature smiles on us all,

and there's a ring around the moon

that means rain is coming soon

and we'll have a good harvest this fall

The rain beats hard on a poor man's head

The wind pulls the nails out of the tin roof of the shed

The moon keeps on shining

on the old homestead

The wind blows through the wheatfield at night

and it plays a lonely tune

The bones clatter in the trees, waving in the summer breeze

and there ain't nothing like Lee County in June

The rain beats hard on a poor man's head

The wind pulls the nails out of the tin roof of the shed

The river keeps on flowing by

the old homestead