O small town with one stop sign
In the middle of the prairie,
Your name is mispronounced
By everyone and your children play
Hide-and-seek in the graveyard,
And it was only Tuesday!
The notary public on his park
Bench with a newspaper blanket,
The highest court of tree branches
With a hung crow jury,
Your elderly recall a kettle
Whistling the Andy Griffith Show theme
The day the stock market laid an egg.
I was your invisible master come
To make it stand on the equinox,
But an egg will balance on any day, you fools!
Now you’ve made me a home down a blind
Corner on a cul-de-sac named X.
It’s where the fence meets the park for blind kids,
The one whose playhouse has no windows.
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