Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
Rita Springer
This is a true story. I grew up on a ranch in California with a tree house in the front pasture and geese and goats everywhere. This is for the sibs. There are six of us and back then…that was enough for a tag football team. Life truly was simple then
I can remember when the sky was so blue
We played cowboys and Indians and can you catch the moon
Girl-clubs in the tree-house and the boys they had to stay out
Wondering what we were doing up there all afternoon
Those were the days when life was a little simpler
Those were the days we didn't have much to say
Those were the days when we looked so forward to winter
And April flowers and the summer rain
We had geese on the front porch and we had goats in the backyard
Daddy was always bringing home a lost soul to free
It's funny what you remember in a house made of timber
Six hungry wide-eyed mouths to feed
There's no place like home
Oh, we had nothing fancy
Just welfare and community
And stray dogs we loved and buried in the backyard
Oh, there's no place like home
It's a song if there's a melody
Survival, if no harmony
It's a choice to make a symphony out of anything at all
I can remember when the sky was so blue
But growing up, it changes, all the things we have to do
I'm thankful for the memories no matter where they take me
And it's always just a little bittersweet too
Those were the days the sky was so blue
Oh, those were the days that I remember You