I remember the smell of the creosote plant When we'd have to eat on Easter with my crazy old uncle and aunt They lived in a big house, antebellum style (Antebellum) And the winds would blow across the old bayou And I was a tranquil little child Life was just a tire swing 'Jambalaya' was the only song I could sing Blackberry pickin', eatin' fried chicken And I never knew a thing about pain Life was just a tire swing In a few summers my folks packed me off to camp Yeah me and my cousin' Baxter in our pup tent with a lamp And in a few days Baxter went home and he left me by myself But I knew that I'd stay, it was better that way And I could get along without any help Life was just a tire swing 'Jambalaya' was the only song I could sing Chasin' after sparrows with rubber-tipped arrows Knowin' I could never hurt a thing Life was just a tire swing (Tire swing) And I never been west of New Orleans or east of Pensacola My only contact with the outside world was an RCA Victrola And Elvis would sing and then I'd dream about expensive cars And who would've figured twenty years later I'd be rubbin' shoulders with the stars Life was just a tire swing Then the other mornin' on some Illinois road I fell asleep at the wheel But was quickly wakened up by a 'Ma Bell' telephone pole And a bunch of Grant Wood faces screamin', 'Is he still alive?' Through the window I could see it hangin' from a tree And I knew that I had survived And life is still a tire swing 'Jambalaya' is the best song I can sing Blackberry pickin', eatin' fried chicken But I finally learned a lot about pain Life was just a tire swing (Tire swing) Life was just a tire swing (Tire swing) Life was just a tire swing (Tire swing) Life was just a tire swing (Tire swing)