My Momma says don’t search for love but I’m always looking for you,
I collect the stars and weave them into a picnic blanket,
They cover the sky like little tiny eyes,
Sleep well, but please dream of me.
One two three four five six seven magpies,
I’m sure they have a secret that they’re keeping,
But they told me while I was at my sewing machine,
They found you.
So I’m sending you a red thread,
You’ll find me if you follow it - trust me, it won’t break.
I’ll tie my end on a magpie leg and you tie yours on a cowbell,
Let’s meet again when summer comes.
My Pappa says don’t marry a cowherd,
I’m a princess, not a servant.
To him I’ll always be his little girl,
But I’m grown up now.
So come find me in New York City,
Where all the art schools are.
You’ll see me in a fashion magazine,
No, silly, not the model, but the dress.
And I’ll find you, my small town boy,
In Los Angeles, where you find your heavenly calling.
Make music with that cowhorn of yours,
That you brought from your farm in Utah.
Let’s met in Chicago, somewhere in between,
Just follow the red thread.
Long distance is hard but the thread won’t break,
I miss you, but I look forward to July,
Every single year.