When I was young, so very young
I would hear the cry of those moms
Who did stay home and raise their kids
Why others were away to play
Or strapped to head for work

In whose hands are you leaving you're children?

When in my latter teen years when staying at home
Up late, but back from work on a week end night
When the clock ticked ten the news would display?

Parents, where are your children?

For I did know just where they were
While my mother said "I'm glad your home!
Damn this thing, she'd seen it too…
For sometimes I did go roam.

But out here in the old Midwest
They say that we're behind…
No way, I say! We toke as hell!
But maybe not our parents

For they grew up from the old school
That taught things always happened
During the night that were so shady
You would never ever find goin'.

Missing children, from family stories
Of how just the old times went
And how her mother relayed to her
This deep dark family secret.

Yea, right! Mom, those are fairy tales.
As I tuned into view
The latest from my high school friends
About a new show showin'

You see I've heard those stories from
Others now so many years ago
I knew not where I heard before
But it was not mom you know

For she was never there as I realize
The first time I heard the ‘Live, from
New York' show, but now I
Remember it was from my dad
Which I overheard earlier today

About some man who had crossed
The picket line you see, how they seen him
Not far from home, ha, ha, four flats!
Guess that lessoned him fast!!

That's not right, I thought, maybe he had to
His children needed bread, and he never
Would ever approve of stealing
Just to get them fed!!

But you know unions…"my way or the highway"
And did they say supervisors do it?
Who's right who's wrong? It's still that way
As I just always knew it!

But there is one from long ago
That no-one here remembers
About when times were very hard
Or sad and no-one ever recalls that

But I've pieced it together
For I'm One big History nut
You may think I crazy but,
Maybe someday still
I'll sit around that campfire soon
And tell that one to my own

For it seems He never changes
In the way he loves his children
For now I know one they do not
Nor does one here remember

But being the nut as I am I do
Genealogy of them too
And in searching those old cemeteries
Here's one they do not know

How the cholera it was here too
And now I even do know it.
For I have watched some spooky
Ones and pieced it all together

I'd search courthouses for so long
And found the stones to prove it.
How my family too, lost one at two
The age they wean the young, more or less
Just how it spreads, and they all knew
And Poe knew it too and this one Nostradamus

The water dummies!! Sinners Creek School!!
Good man's spring!! Cholera, Black Plague,
Bubonic Plague! If you drink from the sewer of one town
So far down stream, you know it not, but it's not well diluted.

Babies, Old men, Satanic ways, gives him away every time!
Maybe God's alive and well today as I have solved that one
Now many will claim that they already did, for some always
Knew it!! For they may have even repainted it
Sometimes there are little clues we miss everyday,
But when they are revealed this way, It makes us wonder

But don't spend all our time looking for clues, or as the old timers did say
Daydreaming never helps…..Or did liberal schools make us that way
Oh well, they say, One must eat….so I better go.
There right there, no work, no pay, but the old timers always knew that one!

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