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Kicking a Can Down the Road (Boyhood Memories)

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  • Kicking a Can Down the Road (Boyhood Memories)



    Kicking a can down the road,
    Pulling nails out of old boards,
    Learning to tie a square knot,
    Most decisions made on the spot.

    Climbing trees to the tip top,
    Helping gather all the crops,
    Going days without worries,
    Pleasant smell of plowed furrows.

    Hunting crawfish in ditches,
    Wearing jeans that had stitches,
    Digging up worms for fishing,
    Pole, line, hook and lots of wishing.

    Seeing white clouds floating high,
    Watching swift bumble bees fly,
    Making toys out of pine bark,
    Fireflies rocketing in the dark.

    Shooting snakes in a deep pit,
    Having need for screaming fit,
    Fishing in black swamp water,
    Hotdog and coke for a quarter.

    Feeding all the farm livestock,
    Running through lofty corn stalks,
    Sloping the troughs for the hogs,
    Stable built of knotty pine logs.

    Tailing mules down the rows,
    Cutting wood to feed the stove,
    Boiling clothes in black wash pots,
    To germ-free and launder spots.

    Working hour for fifty cents,
    Mending the worn garden fence,
    Watching grade B picture shows,
    Often mimicked the heroes.

    Hearing fine beagle hounds run,
    Chasing rabbit just for fun,
    Startling to see snipe in flight,
    Starry heavens dazzling at night.

    Eating grapes from vine galore,
    Playing on the corn house floor,
    Killing hogs in winter time,
    Watermelon ate in the rind.

    Going to the country store,
    Throwing mud on the barn door,
    Running wild in the cool rain,
    Innocent life, simple and plain.

    Eating Sunday fried chicken,
    Despising cotton picking,
    Stomping in deep mud puddle,
    Beam as newborn kittens cuddle,

    Joining Church and Sunday School,
    Being taught the Golden Rule,
    Tuning dial was a highlight,
    To Grand Ole Opry Sat’day night,

    Fearing a strong thunderstorm,
    Cheering when tempest was gone,
    Enjoying garden’s good yield,
    Much dislike for tobacco fields.

    Fighting with raucous cousins,
    Leaving head sore and buzzing,
    Causing some shenanigans,
    Like cowboys and Indians.

    Living full life on a farm,
    Loving the pastoral charm,
    Thinking you n’er be too old,
    For kicking a can down the road.
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