I think the
dad was mafia,
They lived
way beyond their means…
Providing
venues of positive change:
Jukeboxes,
cigarette machines.
We partied
like we knew Gatsby,
Smoking menthol's around the pool…
Posing like
we had money,
And I, the adopted fool!
Their
Wurlitzer had a button,
In the back,
to use no dimes…
The Hit
Parade was free to us
We danced to the best of times.
The mother was always shopping,
New furniture to rearrange...
Each Fall, another Cadillac,
Her life, "Going through the change".
A San Joaquin cherry farmer,
Pillar of the community...
The citizens who admired him,
Never saw one Cherry Tree.
The mother was always shopping,
New furniture to rearrange...
Each Fall, another Cadillac,
Her life, "Going through the change".
A San Joaquin cherry farmer,
Pillar of the community...
The citizens who admired him,
Never saw one Cherry Tree.
It wasn’t
till I hit sixty,
Old age
extinguished the fire.
I remembered
they always pushed D-12;
The
Castaways, singing "Liar Liar".
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