There's a blue rocking chair 
 Sittin' in the sand 
 Weathered by the storms 
 And well oiled hands 

 It sways back and forth 
 With the help of the winds 
 It seems to always be there 
 Like an old [bad word] friend 

 I've read a lot of books 
 Wrote a few songs 
 Looked at my life 
 Where it's going, where it's gone 

 I've seen the world through a bus windshield 
 But [bad word] 
 To the way that I see it 
 To the way that I see it 
 To the way that I see it 
 When I sit in that old blue chair 

 From that chair I've caught 
 few fish and some rays 
 And I've watched boats sail 
 In and out of Cinnamon Bay 

 I let go of a lover 
 That took a piece of my heart 
 And prayed many times for forgiveness 
 And a brand new start 

 I've read a lot of books 
 Wrote a few songs 
 Looked at my life 
 Where it's going, where it's gone 

 I've seen the world through a bus windshield 
 But [bad word] 
 To the way that I see it 
 To the way that I see it 
 To the way that I see it 
 When I sit in that old blue chair 

 That chair was my bed one New Year's night 
 When I passed out from too much Malibu 
 And I woke up to a hundred mosquito bites, I swear 
 Got 'em all sitting right there 
 In that old blue chair 

 There's a blue rocking chair 
 Sittin' in the sand 
 Weathered by the storms 
 And well oiled hands.