Low expectations were our salvation back then
Always the shaking heads and
Disapproving looks I-I wouldn’t mind them again
I got a taste for youth I couldn’t shake it off
Still climbing trees at twenty-three and still got
Pictures in my books ah-ah that’s how we did it back then
Now I’ve got trouble recalling
Every nook and cranny that we used to hang around
I see rubble falling
From the ruins that we used to call our playground
I still keep photographs of you and me in a shoebox ‘neath my bed
Keep ‘em for a rainy day
Or when you hit the dirt I-I could prop ‘em up by your grave
Now I’ve got trouble recalling
Every nook and cranny that we used to hang around
I see rubble falling
From the ruins that we used to call our playground
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