January back in '55 we rode a Greyhound bus   Through the Georgia midnight   Grandpa was sleeping and the winter sky was clear      We hit a bump and his head jerked back a little   And he mumbled something   He woke up smiling but his eyes were bright with tears, he said      I dreamed I was back on the farm   Twenty years have passed, boy   But the memory still warms me   Wild flowers in a mason jar      He told me those old stories   'Bout that one room cabin in Kentucky   The smell of rain and the feel of the warm earth in his hands      He slowly turned and stared outside   His face was mirrored in the window   And his reflection flew across the moonlit land      And he dreamed he was back on the farm   He tilts his head and listens to the early sounds of morning   Wild flowers in a mason jar      An old man and an eight year old boy   Rolling down that midnight highway   Warm Kentucky memories from a winter Georgia night      I started drifting off and grandpa tucked his coat around me   I think I tried to smile as I slowly closed my eyes   And I dreamed I was with him on the farm   Grandpa, I can hear the evening wind out in the corn   Wild flowers in a mason jar and the bus rolling through the night