In my teenaged room
Walled with paper, paneling and paint
I listened to the radio
Bought with money that I earned
Digging out the earth
Where our rumpus room would go
I tried to drown the raucous noise
Beneath my green shag floor
Of the prodigals in stereo
Who challenged the
'My way or the highway' rules
As old as Grandpa Joe
Eight days a week
I listened to the thumping,
The harsh discordant beats
Dreaming I was happy
With thunderous applause
And the rose, planted at my feet
Now I collect the songs
That made this young girl cry -
He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother;
Lean on Me; You've Got a Friend;
Don't Cry Out Loud;
Bridge Over Troubled Water
Brittle fingers fumble
With anthems of my youth
On worn and yellowed keys
And some melodies I never heard
(On the countdown or Dick Clark)
That stretch my songbook's seams
No comments:
Post a Comment