All the old men died around
And left behind this little town
They’d built with bricks and two by fours
Workin’ late from early morn
.
Their women knew that they were lucky
To get a man so strong and plucky
They watched the good come through their door
And did not let it out no more
.
And now their sons have taken over
Walking barefoot through the clover
Don’t know a sycamore from birch
Play Stratocasters in the church
.
Their women know it ain’t the same
What once was bold has now gone lame
They wonder should they take the blame
For killing nature’s happy game
.
Their men can’t muster five push ups
Drive fifty-thousand-dollar trucks
And find their thrills on blue websites
And rob their girls of happy nights
.
It wasn’t their war and they ain’t fought it
Got it so bad they don’t know they’ve got it
They show their trinkets on their lawns
Don’t know what they once had is gone
.
They let things go, thinkin’ they’re so smart
While their whole world is torn apart
Their children don’t know up from down
They’ve left behind this little town
copyright 2017
