There was a time in our past and it wasn’t long ago

When everyone on the street were people you know

 

As you walked down the street you waved and said hi

And they wondered where you were going when you drove by

 

My Grandmother was always humming while shelling her peas

In her duster with stockings rolled down to her knees

 

I would always stop and visit when I saw her out there

And we would talk about life in her white rocking chairs

 

We all knew what was happening all over the town

Because neighbors would stop to spread the gossip around

 

You knew who was having a baby and who got fired from their job

You knew who was sneaking out drinking and who was a snob

 

We looked out for each other and all of our neighbors we knew

Because you grew up in a house and your family never moved

 

Sadly this kind of life simply burned out like the wik of a torch

As American families quit building houses with a front porch

 

From My World To Yours,

Bob Baker