WIld Birds

This old house has been around a long time,
Been around a long time, as long as I can remember;
This old road, it used to be a cow path,
Then it was a dirt road, then they paved it over.

Sometimes the past, it haunts me,
How the years, they escape me;
But how I love to walk the streets and hear the wild birds
Where you can be a wild bird still.

Old man Richard has been around a long time,
Now he rocks a front porch, smokes another Tiparillo;
Watches the children climbing on the diesels,
Someday he'll have to move them—put 'em in a museum.

Sometimes the past, it haunts me,
How the years, they escape me;
But how I love to walk the streets and hear the wild birds
Where you can be a wild bird still.

This old town has been around a long time,
Seen the river rising, lost a corporation;
Drive across it in no time—cup of coffee at the cafe,
Gain a reputation.

Sometimes the past, it haunts me,
How the years, they escape me;
But how I love to walk the streets and hear the wild birds
Where you can be a wild bird still.