Trailer Park Heaven

When I was chugging along on a big school bus
Cruising on Old Olympic Seven
My pendant and my backpack were a school girl’s secret weapon
Learning how to read or write in an evergreen trailer park heaven

Clinging onto you like a priest to a rosary 
Perched high on your shoulders like a bird in the highest tree

Not sure who my family was or if I should be praying to a big blue man above
But I’m on the bus through sleet or snow
Feel the road racing below

Cross legged in the teacher’s room 
Listening to
Stories like ghost canoe about little boys who had lost themselves and their families too

They didn’t have log cabins across the pond
Maybe these train tracks can stop suburban sprawl

Riding on the bus back home to a land go childish naivety
Running through the brambles alone you can’t tell which ones are “American Made” trees 

Clinging onto you like a priest to a rosary 
Perched high on your shoulders like a bird in the highest tree
Saluting to our flag with their hearts in hand
I’ve never felt unwelcome in the promised land

Trailer Park Heaven DEMO

"Beauty is rarely soft or consolatory. Quite the contrary. Genuine beauty is always quite alarming."
- Donna Tartt

Trailer Park Heaven DEMO

Nadège

Recent comments

Nadège