Magnolia Wind
Emmylou Harris and John Prine

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I'd rather sleep in a box like a bum on the street
Than a fine feather bed without your little ol' cold feet
And I'd rather be deaf, dumb, and stone blind
Than to know that your mornings will never be mine

And I'd rather die young than to live without you
I'd rather go hungry than eat lonesome stew
You know it's once in a lifetime and it won't come again
It's here and it's gone on a magnolia wind

I'd rather not walk through the garden again
If I can't catch your scent on a magnolia wind

If it ever comes time... that it comes time to go
Pack up your fiddles, Sis' pack up your bow
If I can't dance with you, then I won't dance at all
I'll just sit this one out with my back to the wall

And I'd rather not hear pretty music again
If I can't catch your voice on a magnolia wind

If I can't catch your scent on a magnolia wind