Folly

Lost with Nowhere to Go

Lost with Nowhere to Go

© 11-27-23, Olan L. Smith

I woke up in the morning. Couldn't remember my name;

I fell to the floor and I knew I was out of the game.

My hip gave out, and I stubbed my big toe.

I was lost, with nowhere to go.

Been through the ages, and wrote my name on a green Mason Jar; 

I'm lost with nowhere to be.

In the twenty-twenties, you won't know who you are,

Because there's no one here to remember your plea.

In the fifty-eight, I was climbing tall trees,  barefoot and fancy free.

I lay in the meadow with neighborhood girls,

Counting peddles on a daisy or two.

There ain't no girls like Becky Sue, Karen, or Carma Lou.

Give me my memories back — give them back to me.

Give me my memories back — give them back to me.

Whoa, whoa, whoa; I can't remember my name —

I'm lost, with nowhere to go.

Whoa, whoa, whoa; I can't remember my name —

I'm down and out of the game.

After Sunday, my toe had turned blue.

The surgeon said, we need to operate — code blue.

Gangrene is never a good sign. So, never stub your toe.

When they asked me my name, I made sure I said where to go.

There ain't no girls like Beck Sue, Karen, or Carma Lou.

There ain't no girls like Becky Sue, Karen, or Carma Lou.

Whoa, whoa, whoa; I can't remember my name —

I'm lost, with nowhere to go.

Whoa, whoa, whoa; I can't remember my name —

I'm down and out of the game.

A/N This song is written to the melody of the 1972 hit song that was written by Dewey Bunnell, "Horse with no Name". I'm not sure how successful I was, as songwriting is something that eludes me. The song has been going through my mind constantly since I heard it in a meme on Facebook. So, this is an attempt to excise the earworm.