This song was requested by Carol the singer. She wants two songs. I did my best. Sing it, gang.
I just love Liverachi…The words are below
I left my crown in 1880 town
Low on a knoll, it calls to me.
To be there dancing with the bears, while Kevin Costner stares
Road trip gang… oh please help me.
My crown waits there…in 1880 town
High on the water tower that looms above
Who needs little cable cars that climb halfway to the stars
The morning brain fog won’t clear… even there, so we don’t care.
When we return to you…My 1880 town
My golden crown will shine on us….and the queen’s tour bus
(A few pictures from the Road Trip Gang’s summer of 17 road trip.)
The loveliness of Mabank… seems so far away
The glory that was Wyoming… is of another day
I’ve been without my usual spark… and lost inside this RV park
I’m about to move to tiny town…I need my crown.
************
If I can’t find my shiny crown…in 1880 town
I surely will despair…I’ll no longer have a pair
Because I think I left my head there tooooooo….
(The gang…)
With neither head nor crown… what will she dooooo???
Tiny Town without a crown?
She’ll Boohoo, boohoo, boohoo and then she’ll sue…
The End
Things will be a bit out of whack for a while, but once you’re in your new home, your life will settle down with your crown and red gown, so don’t frown.
(Man that sounded crazy!)
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Crazy is catching, cuz…you’ve been working hard testing all those kiddos.
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I looked for my crown, day and night, then finally found it in plain sight. It was camouflaged by other jewels between Liverachi’s jacket and his piano stool…. Your poetry was priceless, Jean.
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Mary you will never lose your spark, in the small town or in the dark. Â Â Your crown will, I’m sure, be found By the Road Gang Gals, all safe and sound. On the tower or in the 80’s No stone will be left unturned by those ladies! We promise we will not chill the air Because, Â you see, we really care! Â Â Â
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I looked for my crown, day and night, then finally found it in plain sight. It was camouflaged by other jewels between Liverachi’s jacket and his piano stool…. Your poetry was priceless, Jean.
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Heart-wrenching.
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I’m in limbo land.
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