We enter through the castle door
I am holding My Mother's Hand
My Father's Hand is far too strong
My Brother never really understood that

My Mother's cigarettes are in Her Purse
Her Lighter, also
Sometimes when we were driving down The Road
In Her Black T-Top Trans-Am
We would pretend She was Smokey
My Brother was The Bandit
That made Me A Cherokee Indian Princess
And My Father A Young Gunner By Law, you see

"Buck! Back to the castle," I heard someone shout
The sun was sweating us and The Matrie'D sat us
Near The Window, in the rear, where the peacocks
Were struttin' their "stuff"

Beans, potatoes, squash and corn
"Something" with bones in it, Oh My God!
Bread and tea,
I must end this now, desert is on the way!

------- Author's Notes -------

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