Gramma's Creek

When I was a young boy
Down at my Gramma's creek
Laying under the willows
Listening to the water speak
Catch me a snake
And a tadpole or two
Gonna' climb that big oak tree
Right up to the blue.

With my brother and my cousins
Down at the creek
We swore we were Indians
Man, you should have seen us sneak
We knew every pool, every turn, every log
And right over there was the skull of a dog.

Playing football in the dirt
Climbing that old mulberry tree
There was just no other place
I would rather be
Jumping in the hay barn
Since who knows when
Going back to Gramma's house
And her cookie tin.

Sunday dinner at my uncle's
Watching TV till eight
Man that Marlin Perkins
He sure was great
Walking back in the dark, though
Wasn't always that fun
The slightest little sound
Would set us off in a run.

Sprinting past the hay barn
And the chicken shed too
You just knew there was some ghost
Bearing down on you
But the back porch light is on
Down at my Gramma's house
Wipe your feet boys she tells us
The peach cobbler is out.

Now I long for those simple days
Down at my Gramma's creek
Laying under the willows
Listening to the water speak
I would cross over the creek
On that big rotten log,
And keep my eyes open
For the skull of that dog.