In the place where I grew up
The chores got started at sun up
It wasn't fun, but we all shared the load
Sometimes we'd work all day
Sometimes we'd all go play
Around the house at the end of the road
My childhood days were all so free
The world outside didn't worry me
Our bikes turned into racers while we rode
We didn't know each passing day
Took us further on away
From the house at the end of the road
It's so hard to be grown
Out in the world and on your own
With no house at the end of the road
If I could, I'd be gone
Wrestling in the grass we'd mown
To the house at the end of the road
Just a bunch of preteen thugs
With BB guns instead of drugs
Every summer day, a brand new episode
Shooting birds and shaking rugs
Daddy's belt and Mama's hugs
Now they're gone, like the house at the end of the road
It's so hard to be grown
Out in the world and on your own
With no house at the end of the road
If I could, I'd be gone
Wrestling in the grass we'd mown
To the house at the end of the road
If I could, I'd be gone
Where the wild geese have flown
To the house at the end of the road
To the house at the end of the road
Writer(s): R. Killough, L.t. Wilson
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