Old Blue Tomorrow - George Jones

The rope on the swing and the pine tree is rotten

The old climbin' tree house has long been forgotten

The ones who were raised here don’t come any more

And all blue tomorrow is here at my door.

These hard workin' hands now calloused with age

The lines on my face are a well written page

My footsteps are feeble and I can’t hardly see

For old blue tomorrow done caught up with me.

--- Instrumental ---

The hair of my head is white as the snow

And so many loved ones have gone on before

But I won’t be alone as I make my last stand

For old blue tomorrow is holdin' my hand.

The sun soon no longer will shine on my face

The bushes and bramble will take this old place

And wait for the doorway, wait for the call

For old blue tomorrow has won after all.

Old blue tomorrow has won after all…