Railroad tracks and river bends
An unexpected call from a long lost friend
The bittersweet sadness when the story ends
Eighth notes from a saxophone
After a long trip and I'm heading home
The quiet morning when I wake alone
That kind of blue I can't remember
But it makes me swear that I once knew
That kind of blue that sings so soulful
That old melody, that gospel tune
That kind of blue
Chagall windows at the institute
Chicory flowers sticking out of my boots
Playing an old piano on a rainy afternoon
The sound of the breeze as it blows
The faint hint of sandalwood and rose
I'm laughing and I'm crying because she knows
That kind of blue I can't hold on to
But it makes me feel I'm almost there
That kind of blue like the darkest midnight
I can't see a thing but I'm not scared
That kind of blue
That kind of blue that speaks of freedom
And calls me out from my hiding place
That kind of blue that asks for nothing
Just lays me down, kisses my face
That kind of blue these six strings show me
When she's softly sleeping in the next room
That kind of blue that lets her hold me
Then let's me go to watch her bloom
That kind of blue
That kind of blue
