As I get to thinking back
You know, we grew up by the railroad tracks
And now I like all them old train songs
After walking those tracks for so damn long
Well I don’t get back there much
Most of us have fallen out of touch
And it’s often hard to make any sense
Speaking of those days now in the past tense
Never fell off any cliffs in the rye
Amidst the fields where the crows would fly
Where we filled Mason jars with fireflies
While running alongside those ghosts of the mines
And back there on Clover Street
Where the Shamrock Hotel and the railroad meet
Shadows still throw rocks and climb those trees
Throughout a never-ending game of “Home Free“
Never fell off any cliffs in the rye
Amidst the fields where the geese would fly
Where we filled Mason jars with fireflies
While running alongside those ghosts of the mines
Walking my lab through pastures of hay
Pop working on cars in the alleyway
Forts and fires and our lines in the stream
Baseball in the parking lot with the same ol’ teams
Well, never fell off any cliffs in the rye
Amidst the fields where the crows would fly
Where we filled Mason jars with fireflies
While running alongside those ghosts of the mines
© 2014 Jason Haines. All Rights Reserved.