Acorn Whistles
Album: Wiley Post
By: Wiley Post
By: Wiley Post
Duration
4:24
Genres
Description
Listen and you might hear the sound of a kid growing up.
Lyrics
All the trees that bare the leaves have gone and died And now reside in my favorite dresser Hanging from the bough are suits and dry-cleaned dress shirts Pin-striped, ink-stained pockets And the river, once my mirror Now a soup with dumpling tugboats And the stones we used to step from Lead the way to spray paint canvas The dirt turns to rubber pavement wearing down Father's favorite work boots, and he's sunburnt Rolling hills of apple pie, and sparkling ponds of sunfish I could see for miles Playgrounds founding extra classrooms The fields are looking greener Acorns falling from the trees So we'd whistle through the park Late at night when the freight train comes barreling down From my old neighborhood It's shaking my walls I grew up under the shade of all the leaves of all the trees that fell Fourteen years ago Spin us one more time on the old merry-go-round Then we'd whistle through the park With the acorns that we found.
