Just the other day I was there,
running, laughing once again with no cares.
I was playing tag around the old pear tree.
I'm the one with Band-aids on my knees.
There's my mom helping grandma tend the yard,
while grandpa's in his hammock, snoring hard.
The journey isn't very far for me
I go home every now and then in my memories.

There's my friend who with secrets I could share.
Oh!  The fragrant roses between our yard and theirs.
Whose thorns left me this scar upon my hand.
See my brother, his Tonka trucks in the sand.
On the sidewalk my sister rides her bike.
That's the phone line that always ate our kites.
Going home is not that hard for me,
I go there every now and then in my memories.

Dead Man's Alley was a place we could dare,
each other to go down, if they weren't scared.
The neighbors driveway, we always thought so steep.
It's funny, the mental images we keep.
Our front porch, home to Barbie's and Troll Dolls.
The hours grandma spent sewing outfits for them all.
To visit once again, for me, is so easy,
I go home every now and then in my memories.


The stereo my brother touched so that he could "hear"
the music through the vibrations, the big smile he would wear.
The walks with grandpa to the Rexall Store.
Roller skating round the tiled basement floor.
The hearth with the huge mirror hung above
All the happiness, especially all the love.
Yes, coming home again is a treat for me,
I come here every now and then in my memories.