South Shore

​I grew up on the South Shore fishing in a cranberry bog.

Pulling largemouth bass out of these old farm ponds.

People always ask me, “Where has your accent gone?”

I grew up ‘round here, but I never had one.

I’m from a small town.

I’ve seen some things.

Worked hard keeping my eyes open, observing everything.

It’s a big old world. It’s a big old world.

It’s a big old world. It’s a big old world.

I’ve been let down.

I’ve felt real pain.

I’ve overindulged to the point I felt insane.

There’ve been times I felt so alone.

I walked through my hometown like a man unknown.

Maybe that’s fate?

Maybe that’s life?

You love and hate.

And there’s peace and strife.

Maybe that’s real?

Maybe that’s fake?

You walk through town with your head hanging down saying “Ain’t life great?”

And I left home for a while to see where I belonged.

I searched high and low for a place to call home, but it all felt wrong. And people say, “You can never go home”,

But I like to think that ain’t so ‘cause if it is I’ve got nowhere to go.

It’s a big old world, it’s a big old world.

It’s a big old world, it’s a big old world.

I grew up on the South Shore fishing in a cranberry bog.

Pulling largemouth bass out of these old farm ponds.

People always ask me “Where has your accent gone?”

I grew up ‘round here, but I never had one.

​It seems I’ve been gone so long, it’s like I never had one.