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Jackie Morris: Music

Where the Legends Grow Like Weeds

(Jackie Morris)
In a clearing in the forest
On the outskirts of the town
Stood the ruins of a cabin
That had long ago burnt down
Just a blackened old stone chimney
Guarding some unspoken deeds
Where the weeds grew through the rubble
And the legends grew like weeds.

No one knew just how it got there
Who had lived there, none could say
We children talked of gypsies...
Or an outlaws’ hideaway
Or the fire of a jealous lover
in a tragic passion play
They were rumors in the rubble
In the stones of yesterday.

Now the forest is long vanished
And the chimney bulldozed down
And on the outskirts of the city
There stands another town
And in the place of that lonesome cabin
Is a store for all our needs
But I’d rather have the forest
Where the legends grow like weeds.

I’d rather have the forest
Where the legends grow like weeds.