Banks Of The Old Bandera

On the banks of the old Bandera, where roams the barefoot child
On Sunday-go-to-meetin’ shortcuts
Out along the high wire lines, down a dusty road

The hills there were bluebonnets
Like a printed cotton gown
And summer rain falls down like honey
Sweet magnolia blossoms grow – and old men dance

Once we ran barefooted through a clover full of dew
Once we learned to play like lone Comanches running loose
What it made you feel like is a song
But what it feels like now is gone

I can hear the screen door slamming
Run a foot race to the creek
You can see clean to the bottom – and deeper
Just depends on how you look, maybe where you stand

Monkey vines and swimmin’ holes
Lay just around the bend
The rope we used to swing on
Now hangs tattered in the wind

What it made you feel like is a song
And what it feels like now is gone
What it made you feel like is a song