The lonesome whistle of a late night train
The sound of bullfrogs or a night owls screech
The melodic drip of a summer rain
These things pull me back to my town asleep
I could count the stars in the sky at night
Without smog or bright lights to drown the view
Bushes covered in fireflies glittered bright
Like golden mounds covered in misty dew
I had so many years of wasted dreams
Of where time did not move at a snail’s pace
I now know the only thing that I need
Is to return to that much simpler place
But my small town has completely vanished
Her quiet streets will never comfort me
My hopes of returning have been banished
All that’s left are this old man’s memories
Jerry Brotherton 