Written by J.R. McRae
A WHEN I THINK OF MY CHILDHOOD D DAYS,GROWING E UP IN THE SMALL TOWN A USA
THE FONDEST OF MY D MANY E MEMORIES, IS THAT A FRONT PORCH ROCKING D CHAIR
AND E ALL OF US CHILDREN A GATHERED THERE
WAITING OUR TURN TO D CLIMB UP ON MAMA'S E KNEE
D WITH HER IMAGINATION,{A} AROUND THE WORLD SHE'D TAKE US
WITH THE D STORIES OF THE PLACES SHE E KNEW WE'D NEVER SEE
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IN MAMAS D ROCKING CHAIR, SHE COULD A TAKE US ANYWHERE
TO A E TROPICAL ISLAND,OR A SNOW COVERED MOUNTAIN, OR A A DESERT CARAVAN
WE SAILED THE OCEAN, WE D CLIMBED THE IFLE TOWER, WE WENT A A MILLION MILES AN HOUR
WE TRAVELED E EVERYWHERE, IN MAMAS A ROCKING CHAIR
A IVE GOT A WIFE AND SOME KIDS OF MY D OWN
EVERY E SATURDAY MORNING THEY SIT AT A HOME
GATHERED AROUND, THEIR D EYES GLUED TO THE E SCREEN
D AROUND THE WORLD THEY A GO, IN LIVING COLOR AND STEREO
BUT THEY MAY D NEVER GET TO KNOW, THE THRILL E IMAGINATION BRINGS
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