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RICK FORD ≈ Lyrics

Drifting Kind
Rick Ford

Thereís a buzzard black against the snow
What he lives on I donít know
Ragged thoughts go through my mind
Guess Iím just the drifting kind

Guess Iím just the drifting kind
Planning ainít no plan of mine
Guess Iíll end up where Iíll be
Like that buzzard on the tree

Hey hey hey, hey hey hey, hey hey hey

Once had a woman sheís good to me
Put malt whisky in my tea
But when trees stood black against the sky
She left Ďcos she was the drifting kind

Last night I played some Howlin Wolf
Today I thought of clover wine and you
When you left you left our love behind
Thereís a price to pay when youíre the drifting kind

Ignore the small bones in your kippers
Donít choke on your destiny
Donít look over your shoulder
And donít you ever think of me

Buzzard black against the sun
He takes each day as it comes
Good and bad theyíre all the same
He knows life is just a waiting game
I wait for songs to drift down from the sky
Looking for a place to hide
I keep them with me for a while
Then set them free Ďcos theyíre the drifting kind



Buzzard black against the snow
Fighting with an old black crow
Old crowíll beat him every time
ĎCos that buzzardís just the drifting kind

Easy come and easy go
Where Iím headed I donít know
One day weíre all young guns for hire
Next weíre in the memory choir

Now there ainít nothing I would rather do
Lie on my back down by the brook
Drift with the clouds as they roll by
Ride those highways in the sky

Hey hey hey, hey hey hey, hey hey hey



Americana Music, Rick Ford, Songwriter, Smoke and Mirrors, Americana style, Staffordshire, UK.
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