Intro: Bm
G A D
I remember the smell of the creosote plant,
E F#m Gdim E7 A Bm Cdim A
when we'd have to eat on Easter with my crazy old uncle and aunt.
G A D
They lived in a big house Antebellum style,
G D G D
and the wind would blow across the old bayou,
A D
and I was a tranquil little child.
Chorus:
D Bm
Life was just a tire swing.
G D
'Jambalaya' was the only song I could sing.
G D
Black-berry pickin', eatin' fried chicken,
G D A
and I never knew a thing about pain;
Bm
Life was just a tire swing.
2.
In a few summers my folks packed me off to camp;
yeah, me and my cousin' Baxter in our pup tent with a lamp.
And in a few days Baxter went home, and he left me by myself.
And I knew that I'd stay, it was better that way,
and I could get along without any help.
(2nd chorus)
Life was just a tire swing.
'Jambalaya' was the only song I could sing.
Chasin' after sparrows with rubber-tipped arrows,
knowin' I could never hurt a thing,
and life was just a tire swing.
(then continue)
Bm G F#m Em D
And I've never been west of New Orleans nor east of Pensacola.
G F#m E7 A
My only contact with the outside world was an R.C.A. Victrola.
Bm A
And Elvis would sing and then I'd dream about expensive cars,
E7
and who would've figured twenty years later
A E7 F#m7
I'd be rubbin' shoulders with the stars.
Bm
Life was just a tire swing.
3.
Then the other morning on some Illinois road
I fell asleep at the wheel,
But was quickly wakened up by a 'Ma Bell' telephone pole,
and a bunch of Grant Wood faces screaming 'Is he still alive?',
But through the window I could see it hangin' from a tree,
and I knew that I had survived.
(3rd chorus)
Life was just a tire swing.
'Jambalaya's still the best song that I sing.
Black-berry pickin', eatin' fried chicken,
and I finally learned a lot about pain,
'cause life is just a tire swing.
Life was just a tire swing.
