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CHORUS
C F C
He said its dark in here…can't see the sky. But I look at this Blue Wing
G
and I close my eyes
C F C
Then I fly away, beyond these walls… Up above the clouds, where the rain
G
don’t fall
Am G Am G
On a poor man’s dreams… (yaa, On a poor man’s dreams, yaa)
C
Well they paroled Blue Wing in August, 1963
C Dm
And he moved on pickin’ apples to the town of Wenatchee.
Dm
Winter finally caught him in a run down trailer park,
Dm G C
On the south side of Seattle where the days grow gray and dark
C
And he drank and he dreamt a vision of when the salmon still swam free
C Dm
And his father’s father’s crossed that wide old Bering Sea.
Dm
And the land belonged to everyone, and there were old songs left to sing.
Dm G C
Now it’s narrowed down to a cheap hotel and a tattooed prison wing.
Chorus
C
Well he drank his way to L.A. and that’s where he died. But no one knew his Christian name
C Dm
And there was no one there to cry. But I dreamt there was a service.
Dm
A preacher and an old pine box.
Dm G C
And halfway through the sermon you know Blue Wing began to talk
Chorus
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