GOOD OL' DAYS (1970'S RHYME)

the player ate my eight-track tape
this payphone smells like beer
my pinto's in the shop again
i can't get out of here

three channels on the tv
and the broadcast ends at night
some folks can watch in color
but we got just black and white

though sunday is a day of rest
you can't buy beer or wine
you can smoke 'em if you've got 'em, though,
any place or time

viet nam still rages on
then nixon's in the stew
there's riots in old birmingham
and mayhem on the news

but let's hitchhike to silver lake
to skinny dip and play
or road trip down to georgia
for a concert there today

youth filled those days with magic
turned them golden in our minds
and now we wish the pace would slow
and yearn for simpler times

and though the world seems smaller now
and brutal in its ways
as we progress these hours turn
into the good ol' days