This is an old song
These are old blues
And this is not my tune
But it's mine to use

And all that I want and all that I need
And all that I've got is scattered like seed
And all that I know is blowing away from me
Yeah, all that I know is blowing like tumbleweed

Sadie, white coat
Carry me home
Bury this bone
Take this pinecone

Please, bury this bone
To gnaw on it later
Gnawing on the telephone
'Til then, we will suspend
The notion that these lives will never end

And all day long we talk about mercy
Lead me to water Lord, I sure am thirsty
And I'm down in the ditch where I almost served you
Up in the clouds where he almost heard you
And I'm down where I darn with the milk-eyed mender
You and I, and a love so tender,

And all that we built and all that we breathed,
And all that we spilt or pulled up like weeds
Is piled up in back and it burns irrevocably
And all that I know is blowing like tumbleweed

This is an old song
These are old blues