The Roy Rogers Range

Oh, I wish that this old world Was like the Roy Rogers’ range— Where every boy and girl Didn’t have to view folks strange. It used to be safe outside— All the children could go play— But now they worry and hide In their homes both night and day. Seems there’s just too many ways That our kids can now be harmed— They’ve missed their innocent days— Their lives are no longer charmed. We played all day with no care— Didn’t know ‘bout an upper— Ball games left no time to spare, Till mom’s called us to supper. Yes, those were different times, When sex was not all we thought— And news was not just more crimes— What kind of world have we got? I wish we could relive days When Roy Rogers kept us straight— Before things became a maze Of drugs, thugs and war and hate. I wish we did not grow up To a world that’s now so strange— And death drank not of our cup, Like on a Roy Rogers’ range.