Flies On the Butter (You Can't Go Home Again)

Mmm

Mmm-mmm-mmm

Mmm-mmm-mmm

Mmm-mmm-mmm

Old tin roof

Leaves in the gutter

A hole in the screen door big as your fist

And flies on the butter

Mama baking sugar cookies

We were watching cartoons

I heard her holler from the kitchen, "Which one of you youngen's wants to lick the spoon?"

Yellowjackets on the watermelon

A Honeysuckle in the air

Daddy turning on the sprinkler, us kids running through it in our underwear

Old dog nappin' on the front porch

His ear just a twitchin'

I fell asleep on Granddaddy's lap to the sound of his pocket watch

A tickin'

Whoa-oh-oh

Whoa-oh-oh

It doesn't seem like it was all that long ago

Whoa-oh-oh, oh-oh

Whoa-oh-oh, oh-oh

You can dream about it every now and then

But you can't go home again

Mmm-mm

Me and my best friend Jenny

Set up a backyard camp

Stole one of Mama's mason jars, poked holes in the lid and made a firefly lamp

Me and Billy Monroe

A sneakin' down by the river

And I'm still haunted by the taste of the kiss

I was too scared to give him, haha

Whoa-oh-oh

Whoa-oh-oh

It doesn't seem like it was all that long ago

Whoa-oh-oh, oh-oh

Whoa-oh-oh, oh-oh

You can dream about it every now and then

But you can't go home again

There's a blacktop road

A faded yellow centerline

It can take you back to the place but it can't take you back

In time

Whoa-oh-oh

Whoa-oh-oh

It doesn't seem like it was all that long ago

Whoa-oh-oh, oh

Whoa-oh-oh, oh-oh

You can dream about it every now and then

But you can't go home again

Old tin roof

Leaves in the gutter

A hole in the screen door big as your fist

And flies on the butter