12/16/2002 - 12:00
My old house has leaves in the front yard.
The mailbox is full with bills and christmas cards.
My old house, where my children grew.
Four three oh four, and painted powder blue. Painted powder blue.
And how I tried to hold on tight.
But try as hard as I might.
All those dreams end up in a pile.
So I'll pack up these boxes and force up a smile.
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