Thursday, September 03, 2009

Oh yeah, I'm seeing John Prine next weekend

The older you get, the more this song hits home.

We had an apartment in the city,
Me and Loretta liked living there.
Well, it'd been years since the kids had grown,
A life of their own left us alone.
John and Linda live in Omaha,
And Joe is somewhere on the road.
We lost Davy in the Korean war,
And I still don't know what for, don't matter anymore.

Ya' know that old trees just grow stronger,
And old rivers grow wilder ev'ry day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say, "Hello in there, hello."

Me and Loretta, we don't talk much more,
She sits and stares through the back door screen.
And all the news just repeats itself
Like some forgotten dream that we've both seen.
Someday I'll go and call up Rudy,
We worked together at the factory.
But what could I say if asks "What's new?"
"Nothing, what's with you? Nothing much to do."

Repeat Chorus:

So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes,
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello."


DianeLynn said...

Great song and the lyrics are so true. Where I am at in my life, some of those words have meaning now.
I am seeing that picture more clearly.
Thanks for sharing this and have fun next weekend!

MissKris said...

Several years ago I was a paid companion for an elderly lady who attended my church. She was 96 when I began helping her out a few days each week, still living independently. She was born in 1896 and could remember the bells, whistles and firecrackers going off to usher in a new century in 1900. She graduated the year the Titanic went down. She lived thru two world wars. She was a teacher in a one-room school house in Wisconsin. She was the mother of 7 and had many grands and great-grands. Her mind was as sharp as a tack, mainly, I think, because she was a voracious reader and kept up on current affairs. The time I spent with her was like being with a living history book. We have no idea what treasures we pass by every day when we hurry past our older folks, never bothering to give them the time of day. I've always loved them. My mom used to tell me she'd sometimes hear me talking out on the front porch and she'd peek out, thinking I was talking to myself, only to find one of the older folks who lived in a retirement home up the street sitting on our front step chatting with me.