Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
I gladly raise this glass of scotch
To my girl Allie Rose, my love
Who bought the bottle, certain of...
The treasures of time are loaded on my back
What a welcome burden! Memories alone
Would be a lottery win...
