Woorden: Steve Forbert. January 23-30, 1978.

Plane comes down on the old runway
Home again for a week I'll stay
Hanging out like I used to do
I hope to find some old friends I knew

Hear the news in the honky tonk
Who got married, yes, and who split up
Drinking beer while the jukebox plays
Brand new songs lead for brand new days

Quiet nights and empty streets
Sleepy town, humble home yes
Same old waltz in the wind
By the railroad track

Riding out to a country bridge
Moonlight shining across the ridge
Frozen trees neath a billion stars
Yeah there are 7 friends jammed in Robby's car

High as kites and wild and gone
Drunk as well and laughing loud
Back at home I say good night
And I close the door

Sunday morning the church bell rings
The organ plays and the choir sings
Where am I while the preacher speaks?
Dreaming dreams neath my sheets asleep

Waking up and trying to think
What went down, what'd we do
I rub my eyes and shake my head
Yes and I'm feelin' the sun

Plane takes off on the old runway
Snow fell light on the ground today
Lost an hour that I gained before
Flying back to my New York door

Fare thee well, adios adieu
Yes and best of luck to all of you
I ain't no saint and I don't pretend to be
But I hope you all found a friend in me

City lights blink and shine
Down below, let it change
It's often said that life is strange, oh yes
But compared to what?