Poor little tumbleweed just wanted to settle down

But he married him a hurricane

And when she starts to blow

Poor little tumbleweed scratching’ at our door

Wandering, tumbling’, tumbleweed

Gathering bits of trash

Old yarns, gray fuzz-bunnies

Gonna turn em in for cash

Toothless smile, cliffhanger chin

Scratching at the door

Please let me in I care to roam no more

We were moved to tears so we

Let that poor little tumbleweed fellow in

He was mighty obliged, by the look in his eye

He must’ve rolled through a patch a gin

He shivered and shook and gave us a look

Like I never seen before

That Hurricane was blowing at the door

She had beehive hair piled so high

and a smile with a diamond dimple

Face like a fiddle-bow strung too tight

Could split you down the middle

Jingling, jangling jewelry

Mesmerizing to the eye

Breathless hurricane filled the desert sky

She said:

You woulda coulda shoulda

Been a man some day

If you’d only listened to what I had to say

But you had to go and buy that desert property

Beachfront living down on the Salton Sea

Well they headed East and blazed a trail

Left quite a mess behind

Telephone poles like toothpicks were falling down the line

They’ll see the dawn in Tallahassee eastern standard time,

Poor little tumbleweed, left his West behind.

Boca Raton

Oklahoma City

Payola Kansas, is looking mighty pretty

They hit Baton Rouge, like a hell-bent luge

Heading for the keys

That hurricane, pretty as you please.

Copyright 1998 Matthew Lacques, Nearly Beloved Music, BMI