Wedding Song

Driving from Cleveland to Boston, thought of turning left at Buffalo
And going to see a girl who was living up in Toronto
And who I knew when I was a kid.
Lord knows what all we did.

I believe she was my one chance to marry young,
To have some dark-haired daughters and some guitar-picking sons,
And try and realize my plan to raise a real fine bluegrass band.

I had an awful long way to go, and I had been travelin’ alone.
What if I’d showed up and said, “Why don’t you come on to the show?”
Things might be different now.
But what if she’d said no?

I believe she was my one chance to marry young,
To have a fiddlin’ daughter and a banjo-pickin’ son,
And try and realize my plan to raise a real fine bluegrass band.

I never picked up the telephone.
I never saw the shores of Lake Ontario.
I never dialed that area code.
I never saw the shores of Lake Ontario.

I believe she was my one chance to marry young,
To have a dobro daughter and a mandolin-pickin’ son,
And try and realize my plan to raise a real fine bluegrass band.

Seems I’m always on my way back home. What’s that they say makes a house a home?
I got nothing waiting for me there except my big old piano.
It’s not a matter of things gone wrong, only things left undone.

Ask not for whom the bells ring. They shall never ring for me.