Cottonwood Snow

I’m leaving Montana, tomorrow I’ll go,
You tell me I’m crazy, it’s 30 below,
But if you’d go with me, then surely you’d know,
There’s no place like Texas when the cottonwoods snow.

I rode into Great Falls in ’79,
Came looking for wages and to see the Big Sky,
But the Montana winters have frozen my soul,
My heart longs for Texas where the cottonwoods snow.

Blow, blow, gentle winds blow,
Lift up and carry the cottonwood snow,
In all of creation there’s no finer show,
Than springtime in Texas when the cottonwoods snow.

When first I met Sally, I couldn’t deny,
She captured my heart with a wink of her eye,
We danced through the springtime as the gentle winds blow,
Our hearts were as light as the cottonwood snow.

As much as I loved her, as hard as I tried,
I couldn’t resist that old longing to ride,
In sorrow and anger she begged me don’t go,
But I drifted away like the cottonwood snow.

Blow, blow, gentle winds blow,
Lift up and carry the cottonwood snow,
In all of creation there’s no finer show,
Than springtime in Texas when the cottonwoods snow.

If you find this letter held cold in my hand,
I’ve just one request, let me see her again,
Please carry me back to the one I love so,
And we’ll dance again in the cottonwood snow.

Now a man’s final wishes are sacred I’m told,
A promise to keep when the body turns cold,
We gathered him up and to Texas we rode,
Now he lies in peace ‘neath the cottonwood snow.

Blow, blow, gentle winds blow,
Lift up and carry the cottonwood snow,
In all of creation there’s no finer show,
Than springtime in Texas when the cottonwoods snow.

 

Note: I thought of writing something about Montana after going to Great Falls in 2000 with my wife and parents. I was born there but we moved away shortly afterward so I had no memories of the place. On the trip we learned that my parents left the Air Force and Montana in large part because of the extreme winter cold, and because they were homesick for Texas.

At the same time I was thinking about all of that, I had a notion to write something with the words “cottonwood snow.” We have a lot of cottonwood trees near White Rock Lake, and in the springtime they fill the air with their fluffy white snow. So the two ideas – Montana and cottonwood snow – got mixed up together and this is the result.

Copyright © Jeff Hampton 2010