Author Barry Ross

I'm just an old house that's tumbling down
Where once lived a family
there's no one around
The boards are all weathered
and the winds blowing through
but I have a memory of when things were new

I'm just an old house
With the vines growing ore
The place where a family
grew up in my door
I have a memory of days that are gone
Now can you remember the place you called home

Six little children grew up in the yard
now their all grown
they've traveled so far
Sometimes I wonder if they still think of me
or just an old house in my memory