A cold draft swept down the stairs
From the rooms where we used to sleep
At the top of the landing plaster jagged and bare
Where my daddy’s anger reached deep
Grey woodstove, yellow wallpaper flowers
The smell of baked beans and brown bread
The door down cellar on the other side
Where treasures of summer were kept
One of these days I’ll take a ride
Over the notch to the New Hampshire side
South on 16 ‘till the hills start to slide
Into the valley of time
A rambling cape with a barn attached
A chicken coop where I used to hide
A sentry of maple trees lined the stonewall
Guarding the secrets inside
Sitting on the stairway looking down through the rails
At a fat man with a black coat and tie
He carried little Penny’s cold body away
While my momma sat there and cried
The folks are gone now, the henhouse torn down
The creek where we played runs thru’ a culvert underground
But if you listen closely when that old house exhales
When the shutters blow open you can still hear the tales