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A WHEN I THINK OF MY CHILDHOOD D DAYS,GROWING E UP IN THE SMALL TOWN A USA THE FONDEST OF MY D MANY E MEMORIES, IS THAT A FRONT PORCH ROCKING D CHAIR AND E ALL OF US CHILDREN A GATHERED THERE WAITING OUR TURN TO D CLIMB UP ON MAMA'S E KNEE D WITH HER IMAGINATION,{A} AROUND THE WORLD SHE'D TAKE US WITH THE D STORIES OF THE PLACES SHE E KNEW WE'D NEVER SEE CHORUS: IN MAMAS D ROCKING CHAIR, SHE COULD A TAKE US ANYWHERE TO A E TROPICAL ISLAND,OR A SNOW COVERED MOUNTAIN, OR A A DESERT CARAVAN WE SAILED THE OCEAN, WE D CLIMBED THE IFLE TOWER, WE WENT A A MILLION MILES AN HOUR WE TRAVELED E EVERYWHERE, IN MAMAS A ROCKING CHAIR A IVE GOT A WIFE AND SOME KIDS OF MY D OWN EVERY E SATURDAY MORNING THEY SIT AT A HOME GATHERED AROUND, THEIR D EYES GLUED TO THE E SCREEN D AROUND THE WORLD THEY A GO, IN LIVING COLOR AND STEREO BUT THEY MAY D NEVER GET TO KNOW, THE THRILL E IMAGINATION BRINGS CHORUS CHORUS AND FADE
Written by J.R. McRae
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