TALKING SWEET BYE AND BYE
© Greg Keeler 1987

Idaho

When we were young, I heard you ask as we lay out on the grass,
And the sunset stained the Rockies red and gold,
Could I ever catch my dreams out of life's deceptive streams,
Or would I lose them and find out that I was old.
But now that's been so many years. I'm blinded by my petty fears.
It don't matter if you say, "I told you so."
'Cause there don't seem to be no answers here or anywhere I go,
So I guess I'll wander back to Idaho.

Chorus
And join those slow-steppin' drifters with thier ladies and their wine,
Lay on back and admire the timber line,
While the aspen turn to yellow and the clouds turn into snow.
Yes, I guess I'll wander back to Idaho.

Now I stay up every night, but I can't think of what to write,
So my letters must seem like they're all the same.
Though you're having winter storms, San Francisco's nice and warm.
The sail boats look like jewels on the bay.
But last night as I was driving down the freeway through a foggy town,
I remembered what you asked me years ago.
And there don't seem to be no answers here or anywhere I go,
So I guess I'll wander back to Idaho.

Chorus