It was 1963, a trip to the country
Dirt floors in the kitchen, a smell of piss in the air
German was spoken, Grandpa was smokin’
This five year old would remember it until today
Old world WI, far cry from their land
Weathered & wrinkled these immigrant hands
The pope had just died, JFK had lied
There was nothing much to say, I just stared
You betcha we will, blood sausage swill
This five year old knew, nothing good for today.
Zeman and Euchre, a jug of beer
They were still family, rural white trash farmers
Ma moved to town, got a room her own
Worked in a butcher shop, a job she knew well
Old world WI, far cry from their land
Weathered & wrinkled these immigrant hands
It was 1963, before there was a dream
It was a family of six, and not a lot of smiles
Packers were alright, TV was black & white
This five year old would remember it until today
This five year old would remember it until today
by Dave Schipper (c) 2018 Rose Riversongs
Enjoy the first demo...
