The Old Shed

“Hello….uh, umm…Have we met?...Yea, that's right…Sure… Karen?” Well I don't know you well but you seem like the kind That might join me for coffee at the five-and-dime? But they don’t have five-and-dimes anymore, Now they just call them 'Dollar Stores'. And you won't find a counter where coffee is served But if licorice and Spam is what you prefer A big Beggar’s Banquet is in store for you. We can chat and can laugh in my Subaru. Now a half-hour ago you were almost a stranger And a question like this could perhaps signal danger… Can we go to my place and chat there instead? My tool shed is warm (and there won't be a bed!) But there’s an old wooden desk that I got from my mom And a field jacket on the wall I brought back from Nam, Amid mouse traps, rakes, and seed for the lawn. I can brew up some tea; it won't take too long, It’s there that I write, maybe smoke a cigar. Its there that I keep my fears in a jar, A family reunion is framed on the wall. And my Stella guitar leaning in amongst all, If you just take a chair and let me sing you some songs That an old man kept hidden but never belonged In this dusty old shack. So…if you please, may I croon? Please, sit in the chair. Let me sing you a tune. ... and the song I sang? From Donovan - https://youtu.be/-cd2yG7BiVg