The carriage crunching 'long the beaten path

Myself deep in sleep on my mothers lap

Her singing of times long since passed

The old homestead was

Hardly nothing to see

'Twas full of adventure

For the bravest and free

Though the main door is hanging quite far off its hinges

It covers some moss from the sun's ghastly singes

This moth eaten pillow till now hidden from view

Hardly seems one day older (well maybe a few)

Full of old broken windows

And hideaway shacks

Full of fresh sprouted daisies

And old handicrafts

Full of surprises my playground will stay

Here, ever changing, each day I'm away

Every day as I age my old playground will too

When my children revisit, the cycle renews

Drove south from Virginia late one night

The car wheels crunching 'long the snowy path

Myself smiling as on my young wife's lap

Slept a child as if not one year passed