From a seat by the window on wings made of steel
I stared at the patchwork over the fields
Where young tears that once flowed like warm summer rain
Were turning to snow on the calico plains
Sweet Abilena looks out at the midwestern sky
Closer to thirty, but farther away in her eyes
She holds her babies like she holds her dreams
Each night she kisses and rocks them to sleep
While she reads the letters she makes me promise to write
Sweet Abilena looks out at the midwestern sky...">
From a seat by the window on wings made of steel
I stared at the patchwork over the fields
Where young tears that once flowed like warm summer rain
Were turning to snow on the calico plains
Sweet Abilena looks out at the midwestern sky
Closer to thirty, but farther away in her eyes
She holds her babies like she holds her dreams
Each night she kisses and rocks them to sleep
While she reads the letters she makes me promise to write
Sweet Abilena looks out at the midwestern sky..."/>
Berg Matraca Calico Plains