I was rockin' south-shore down to Growtown

Swinging scythes and red band balls

My dirty eyes are tree trunk brown

Seeing four new flanneled dolls

Reindeer on the stage

selling sights on tightened pants

removing masks from my face

brick on brick and cement fast

Old women whisper whispers

While they try to buy new crafts

Unsure but not unfaltered

I walked down the ginger path

Now I recall my time there

Five years later, going on six

Seeing my exploits got me nowhere

Never hit, you always miss.