Visiting my childhood home always brings back memories of my youth. I’m not often home, but when I am I’m surrounded by reminders of the things I grew up with, the trouble I got in to and the things that led me to where I am now.

Childhood memories surround me here.

Things from when I was another boy without fear.

From baseball cards to hockey sticks.

My old sling shot and broken guitar picks.

Here, I grew up and raised some hell.

Learned crazy things and came out of my shell.

Got into trouble and made memories.

Played ‘Wild West’ and ‘War’ and climbed all these trees.

Here, I got older and broke a few hearts.

Discovered a few things and the musical arts.

Drove like a rebel, rolling past stop signs.

Did some off-roading and paid a few fines.

Looking back now, I fondly recall.

A boy grew here, strong and tall.

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