Philville from Raymond Little by Raymond Little

The morning light is hazy as I head into the city.
Sneak out of the woods onto county road 550.
In the thicket of my mind as I roll on down the road,
past that made over ma and pop shop, I swear I watched explode,

that winters day they said you past away.
Well it’s lost its charm but it still has your name.

Well I never felt like changing plus I didn’t have a shower,
and even if i did that would shorten happy hour.
I’d stop in after work to converse and have a beer.
Head in for a six pack, head home with the cashier.

I miss those days when I could hardly pay you rent.
Everyday is a gift but I can’t seem to unwrap the present.

After the train tracks and a long day of working,
again and again I’d make that stop to see who’s working.
To this day I hit my blinker when approaching your address.
Ready to turn right till i remember that you left.

That winters day they said you past away.
Well it’s lost its charm but it still has your name.
Idiosyncratic shoes no one can fill.
Because without you it will never be Philville.

• Rock
• Rock & Roll
• alternative
• folk
• political
• songwriter
• Marquette