the wind blew a path through the fallen leaves

and there showed a crack in the old oak tree,

the door stood as if it was standing guard

of the dozen chipmunks in the backyard;




every house not a home but dare do i roam,

there's a light on the porch here for someone.




once upon a time in a border town

the war was over, the guns laid down,

the women, the men, the children saved

now it's hard to remember it any other way;




when the law acts as though there is nothing to show,

there is compassion and depth in a neighbor.

now if Bartles & Jaymes didn't need no first names,

we could live by our own laws in favor;




every house not a home but dare do i roam,

there's a light on the porch here for someone.









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