My Song, My Home, My Life, Myself.

Unpublished Works, © 1980, BillyPauleyJr.*

My Song, My Home, My Life, Myself.

Can I talk to you about my place,
I call it mine ‘cos I grew up there,
Where I quit fixing my hair and changing my pace,
And fixed my pace and changed my hair,
I know you’ll say this place isn’t much,
But maybe I care, just maybe I’m dumb,
Maybe my caring is dumb,
As said by some,
But some aren’t me and I’m not some,
And I don’t feel dumb,

Smoke filled ashtrays and burnt out rooms,
Birthday parties and chokes of gloom,
And everyone late, but finishing soon,
Maybe these people weren’t all that good,
But good while it lasted is the phrase I could use,
To explain the feelings that I got used to,
While it was true,
While I knew,
And I don’t feel dumb, just a little blue,

I know you must be wondering just where this may be,
Well, I was hoping by now that you might see,
What’s a house to you is a home to me,
And I find me not too hard to please,
As long as it’s done lovingly,
And done to me,
And I don’t feel dumb, I just feel like me.

- WillyToad*

… this is a Smokey the Toad™ production.