Bamboo

There was a field of bamboo trees
Behind the house down by the creek
In the summers they got so high
There were swarms of mosquitos around that old dock
That field was all cut down
Oh I ain’t been back there since I left town
And that dock has all but washed away
Just a crude reminder of what it was yesterday
It was there that I first learned to shoot
I steadied my hand, pulled the trigger of that old .22
I learned to build things
Made from scrap wood
With hammer and nails
I did what I could
To be just like you
But I sold those guns and bought a car
I don’t have no where to shoot
I don’t have a backyard
And I don’t feel much anymore
I spend all my time workin'
Buy what I need at the store
Ain’t it funny
How memories can feel
Ain’t it strange
What time can steal
There ain’t one thing good
About bein' on the bad end of the deal
Like getting memories in place
Of something that was real
Ain’t it funny
How things can change
Ain’t it strange
What comes with age
There ain’t nothin'
Good 'bout gettin' old
And goin' gray
And losin' dear friends
Along the way