It was the time of the cottonwood treesThe time of the cottonwood treesI met her at the Pale Horse SaloonYes I did, yes I didHer pretty hair was brown, her eyes were tooYes they were, yes they wereIt was the time of the cottonwood treesI don't know if it was all in vainShe drove a blue pick-up truckShe loved it though it really wasn't muchKinda like the way she loved meIn the time of the cottonwood treesThe time of the cottonwood treesShe followed me up the Rio GrandeYes she did, yes she didShe said she liked the way I crossed the landThat's a fact, that's a factIt was the time of the cottonwood treesYou could smell that sage on the breezeI drove a blue pick-up truckOh she loved it though it really wasn't muchKinda like the way she loved meIn the time of the cottonwood treesThe time of the cottonwood treesIt was the time of the cottonwood treesIt's hard to figure what life really meansI can still see that blue pick-up truckOh she loved it though it really wasn't muchKinda like the way she loved meIn the time of the cottonwood treesThe time of the cottonwood treesThe time of the cottonwood trees
