As I drove through my old neighborhood just the other day

I slowed to a stop in the road and couldn’t seem to look away

 

What I was looking at was more than just shingles paint and wood

It was memories of my family and these memories there are good

 

This was the house where I lived throughout my youthful years

It was a place of peace and comfort and where I even shed a few tears

 

We would run and play with friends that lived around our red clay street

And at night climb into bed with our windows open while we went to sleep

 

Supper time we all ate at the kitchen table and talked about our day

Momma took turns to listen to what each of us had to say

 

We all did our part with dishes and cleaning up from supper time

Not helping with the dishes in our house to Momma was a crime

 

We all had our chores to do and school was a major responsibility

Our Momma insisted that everything be done to your best ability

 

I sat there remembering the good times this old house has shared

I’m thankful that though years and growth this old house was spared

 

From My World to Yours,

Bob Baker