There's a blue rocking chair
Sitting in the sand
Weathered by the storms and well oiled hands
It sways back and forth
With the help of the winds
It seems to always be there, like an old trusted friend

I've read a lot of books, wrote a few songs
Looked at my life where it's going, where it's gone
I've seen the world through a bus windshield
But nothing compares to the way that I see it
To the way that I see it, to the way that I see it
When I sit in that old blue chair

From that chair I've cought 
A few fish and some rays
And I've watched boats sail 
In and out of cinnamon bay
I let go of a lover that took a piece of my heart
I prayed many times for forgiveness and a brand new start

I've read a lot of books, wrote a few songs
Looked at my life where it's going, where it's gone
I've seen the world through a bus windshield
But nothing compares to the way that I see it
To the way that I see it, to the way that I see it
When I sit in that old blue chair

That chair was my bed one New Year's night
When I passed out from too much Cruzan and diet
And I woke up to a hundred mosquito bites
So I swear, got 'em all sitting right there
In that old blue chair

There's a blue rocking chair
Sitting in the sand
Weathered by the storms and well oiled hands