Goin home rick hohowski guitar, dobro, bass

I ain’t goin home no more
It’s not like it was before
Joey Lop’s mechanic shop
And the old Bowl Mor
I ain’t goin home no more

I hear my Mama callin me,
Hey Ricky, get down from that tree
You could see the north shore
From that tall old pine
Favorite hiding place of mine

Playing baseball in the street
12 0’clock, we stop to eat
Peanut butter or baloney, man we had it made
Ice cold strawberry Kool Aid

Children playin with heartbeats racin
Little brother chasin you around
Where those times go, how could we know
You just can’t go back home again

Mon and Dad rest in the ground
My old friend, they’re not around
The corner luncheonette is now a coffee chain
The spirits gone, the streets remain

Children playin with heartbeats racin
Little brother chasin you around
Where those times go, how could we know
You just can’t go back home again