Old World WI

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...

Flannel

… by Dave Schipper © 2005 Rose Riversongs

Trees are molting colors to the ground
Box elders are clinging to the door
Just wonder what going on in town
P.S. you’ll find me on the farm.

Lately the days are rushin by
Kid stuff and meetings abound
Sometimes you have to stop and sigh
Baby, don’t you wonder why?

There’s a patchwork of life
Live it til you die
Grab on the hem, and don’t give at all
In the patchwork of life
Sometimes you’re the stripes
But in the end we’re all flannel

Orange and blue fills the night skies
Children shriek and head to home
What nightly terror filled their eyes
Their chatter breaks the previous calm.

Calm is restored about ten
A glass of wine and music too
Too bad we can’t capture the wind
I’d blow it over to you.

There’s a patchwork of life
Live it til you die
Grab on the hem, and don’t give at all
In the patchwork of life
Sometimes you’re the stripes
But in the end we’re all flannel