Memories of Baker Park

Oh, we'd stroll through Baker Park. Just a boy and granddad.

Each step told a story, and the days never felt so bad.

He would sit me up on the park's brick wall that is now

gone and lost just like my granddad. It's such a sad damn sight.

I remember grandma's laugh and the dinner made each night. Fried potatoes,

pinto beans, and cornbread cooked just right. Damn, these days seem

so long ago. Every time I'm home driving by the old homestead

slow, a part of me smiles, a part of me dies