Wild Wind

I didn’t get it as a child Why papaw sat on the porch I thought it was the no air conditioning The house he built by hand felt like a torch They had fans plugged up inside But that wasn’t good enough for him He knew he belonged with the birds Out in the wild wind

He’d say that there’s a whippoorwill You can hear him even at night That there’s a quail But we call ‘em Bob White

And now I hear them and I hear him too Even though he’s gone, his legacy lives through

Now I get it as I’m older Why we perch out on the porch Even though we have air conditioning We’d rather sit out in the scorch There’s so much going on inside This porch is good enough for me I know I belong with the birds Where the wind just lets me be

I say that there’s a whippoorwill You can hear him even at night That there’s a quail But we call ‘em Bob white

When my kids hear me, they hear my papaw too Even though he’s gone, his legacy lives though