Corder Roy
Bowling Alley Nights
Lost little boys on milk carton ads In-fact eight little English lads They come in ones, twos, and threes Knocking, knocking, breaking down doors Hopscotch memories, western stories Double sided leather wrist watch bands They leave in eights, nines, and tens He asked me, "How's life treating you these days?" â??It dependsâ? (I write you letters with hotel stolen pens They come in eights, nines, and tens) Do you remember bowling alley nights? The scuff on your favorite tennis shoes Sun burnt freckles flawlessly flicker across her face The smell, the look, the pain of this place Wind blows sand in your eyes Wake up sad, what a surprise If you were a seed, you hit rocks
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