In California, it was sunny and warm,
When we drove through Texas, there were miles of plains,
In the mid-west, a real dust storm.

I'm in New York now,
Where it's chilly and cold,
And your far-away memories, they don't even keep me warm,
And without you I'm growing old.

I see your smile,
In my memory's pasture green,
And a big outstanding sunset, hangs above this pastoral scene,
I see your face, in a country and western dream,
And a lonesome tear goes fadin' down a clear blue stream.

Was on the east coast, that I was born,
But in my whole life there's nothing that turned me on,
Like the sun on a western morn.

Was one such morning,
You came into my day,
Now no number of faces or places or new affairs,
Can take my dream away.

I see your smile,
In my memory's pasture green, (etc.)

© 2011