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I drove back in time to my childhood home-for a funeral
I sniffed around some old stomping grounds...
the "monkey trail" was an overgrown path that led to the baseball fields
next to the tracks where the trains used to run
the first sign of a dying town, is to nick it in the vein
the trains had long ago stopped running
but i was happy the locomotive had croaked
you see that metal monster ate my puppy a long time ago.

Just around the block from my childhood home
we used to sneak over the neighbors fence 
pinch a few plumbs, juice running down our virgin mugs..
munching away the summer months...
we never once saw the faces of the "plumbers" we stole from
the tree is gone now, I wonder are the faceless "plumbers" still around.

Anyhow, the funeral went off without a glitch
the holy man was short and sweet...
I've outlived a puppy killer and an old plumb tree.

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