| Lyrics: | (Linde)
January, back in '55, we rode a Greyhound bus through the Georgia midnight.
Grandpa
was sleeping and the winter sky was clear.
We hit a bump and his head jerked back a little and
he mumbled something,
he woke up smiling, but his eyes were bright with tears.
He said, "I
dreamed I was back on the farm,
20 years have passed, boy, the memory still warms me.
Wildflowers in a mason jar"
He told me those old stories 'bout that one-room cabin in
Kentucky.
The smell of the rain and the warm earth in his hands.
He slowly turned and stared
outside, his face was mirrored in the window,
and his reflection flew across the moonlit
land.
And he dreamed he was back on the farm.
Tilts his head and listens to the early sound
of morning, wildflowers in a mason jar.
An old man and an eight-year-old boy rolling down
that midnight highway,
Kentucky memories from a winter Georgia night.
I started drifting off
and Grandpa tucked his coat around me,
I think I tried to smile as I slowly closed my
eyes.
And I dreamed I was with him on the farm.
Grandpa, I can hear the evening wind out in
the corn, wildflowers in a mason jar,
wildflowers in a mason jar, wildflowers in a mason jar,
and the bus rolled through the night. |