50 Barn Dance
1
During my high school years in Indiana,
Basketball was the way,
And if you happen to be bad at it,
You were still good enough to play.
2
It was cold and it was January,
Hanging out at some guy’s barn,
Shooting hoops out on the ice,
Where some guy fell and hurt his arm.
3
Freezing cold; the wind was whipping,
I could hardly hear him call,
Let’s take the game inside,
Where the wind is broken by the wall.
4
Who ever heard of playing basketball,
Inside an old tobacco barn,
But playing outside didn’t work,
So going inside would do little harm.
5
With hay bails tied with spider webs,
The center bay and the wooden floor,
A barrel hoop held with bailing wire,
Placed above the sliding door.
6
With no wind or ice it was perfect,
Impressing all of us,
And the sun light streaming through the cracks,
On ribbons of tobacco dust.
7
A week later we were primed again,
To play at the same game,
But some guy’s father had put hay in the barn,
And I can’t remember some guy’s father’s name.