The wind blows every day in South Dakota
And the cowboy knows it's hell to sleep alone.
He thinks of her on winter nights
When the snow is blowin' cold and white.
He lies awake and wonders where she's gone.

He called her Cotton Blossom.
She was like a summer breeze,
Where Spanish Moss drapes across Magnolia trees.
You can't take her too far away from the Gulf of Mexico,
'cause the Southland is the only place
Where Cotton Blossoms grow.

In a cocktail lounge somewhere in New York City
The well dressed man is drinking all alone.
'cause every girl reminds him of the only one he ever loved.
He sips his scotch and wonders where she's gone.

He called her Cotton Blossom.
She was like a summer breeze,
Where Spanish Moss drapes across Magnolia trees.
You can't take her too far away from the Gulf of Mexico,
'cause the Southland is the only place
Where Cotton Blossoms grow.

Words and music by Jack Blanchard. Copyright © Jack Blanchard Songs (BMI).
All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission.



DISCOLOGY
Autumn Hill AH-1015 (1979)