Down To Winfield Town

Down To Winfield Town
by Michael Mark & Tom Chapin
© 2009 HCD Music & The Last Music Co. (ASCAP)

Excitement starts to simmer
At the end of every summer,
Every picker, every strummer
Goes to Winfield Town.
Load your truck and load your car up,
Pack your old guitar up
And get yourself to Winfield Town.

Have you ever seen the Land Rush?
Crazy as a gold rush,
Gotta do the old push to Winfield Town.
Same place, new year, gonna be a blast here,
Coming home to Winfield Town.

Won't you come home with me,
Down to Winfield Town,
Down to Winfield Town.
Come home with me, down to Winfield Town.

The sun in late September
Bakes you good, as I remember.
Still the campers come to Kansas
Down in Winfield Town.
Except in Winfield 37
When the rains came out of heaven
And we floated out of Winfield Town.

Won't you come home with me,
Down to Winfield Town,
Down to Winfield Town.
Come home with me, down to Winfield Town.

Stayin' up all night in the Pecan Grove.
What's the point of sleepin'?
The banjos are contagious,
Guitars outrageous
On the Walnut Valley stages
Down in Winfield Town.
The fiddlers are grinnin',
I love the mandolinin'
That comes spinnin' out of Winfield Town.

Won't you come home with me,
Down to Winfield Town,
Down to Winfield Town.
Come home with me, down to Winfield Town.
Won't you come home with me,
Down to Winfield Town,
Down to Winfield Town.
Come home with me, down to Winfield Town.

This song appears on Tom Chapin's Let The Bad Times Roll CD.

Return to Home Page

Send comments to info@tomchapin.com