Born and raised on a farm in Indiana
|Born and raised on a farm in Indiana,
I learned to write poems, couldn't afford a "piana,"
An hour bus ride to get to school,
An hour home didn't feel too cool.
Momma's home-cookin' sure was a winner,
But we had to do chores before eatin' dinner,
We had a nosy neighbor who'd drive by slow,
I'm not really sure what he wanted to know.
When we had extra time I'd play in the barn,
Or listen to Uncle Jake spinnin' a yarn,
He stuttered a bit which made it more fun,
Then we'd watch TV after work was done.
I found me a girlfriend a few miles away,
I often wonder what she's doing today,
I'd drive our tractor to her daddy's place,
And get a little sugar, play some kissy face.
At the time I didn't know just what I had,
I wanted to grow up and leave the farm real bad,
Mom, Dad, and Uncle Jake laid to rest,
Gone is the farm and the time I love best.