See the Redtail on her perch upon the fencepost, Highway 40 roll on by. If I could reach across the distance for a moment, I'd steal the sadness from her eyes. 2. It's February and the weather's clear for driving, how I've missed your Tennessee. The morning sun just stole the shadows from the mountains, and the years away from me. Yes I've changed and I knew that I was able, but you still look the same to me. And your eyes are just as blue across the table, as the sky in Tennessee. + Instrumental This old farm is ne'er so big as I remember, now the fields are burned and brown. The Pigeon River's running deeper than December, where the Winter snows lay down. How you love your house and this long bed sent from Kenya, and the telling of the story of the woman you met there. She's a darkhaired beauty - my hair's only growing thinner, and my threads a little bare. Yes I've changed and I knew that I was able, but you still look the same to me. And your eyes are just as blue across the table, as the sky in Tennessee. Instrumental In the silence hear the years, we dare not speak of, let this arrow pass on through. And I'll be gone before my heart has met resistance, like you hoped that I would do. See the Redtail turn her wing toward the mountain, God there's sunlight in your smile. If I could reach across the distance for a moment, I'd steal her memory from your eyes. Yes I've changed and I knew that I was able, but you still look the same to me. And your eyes are just as blue across the table, C. Than the sky in Tennessee (bis)