The century farm house stood tall and proud on hill
Overlooking the fields that are now deserted
No more livestock roaming, no more cornfields rooted
As the wind whistles by for the sound of the chill

The ivy is growing, covering all windows
As an old man cracks door, opening rusted seal
And all the memories rush in with happy feel
Of a young boy dreaming in the warmest shadows

Stepping inside the home that made him this great man
Looking past the kitchen and onto the bedroom
Where he lay dreaming head as mind went for the bloom

As he starts to form tears, he holds steady his stand
And he looks back at son to retell him stories
While pointing to some spots that signified glories