Home to Me

Written by CA Roth 2012

Rusted Ferguson tractor dilapidated shed
Roots have busted up the concrete in the old corn crib
Over the border ghosts of the once mighty plains tribe
Ride painted ponies in the sun set sky

The homestead house now stands in a field of soybeans
Aint seen a coat of paint since 1963
There’s a hidden door in the floor where grandma’s still used to be
still feels like home to me

And even though I been gone

Still feels like home
It still feels like home to me

In the spring you got nothin’ but miles of dirt clods
Plain as the people that cut it from the sod
Plains people smile and wave from their cars
They’re just plain friendly that’s what they are

The farmer watches his field with old weathered eyes
On the horizon a hunting hawk flies
A wing and a prayer for rain on a new planted seed
He’s got a wife and a family to feed


Well listen up people because you know when I die
I want and old time jug band playing don’t want no one to cry
Then you can set my ashes on that west prairie wind
Blowin’ across that South Dakota border line