Troublesome Creek

(Mark Barker)

When I was a boy off I would sneak
Down to the banks of Troublesome Creek
With a can of worms and a green cane pole
I’d go down to my favorite fishing hole
And there I’d sit for hours on end
Sometimes by myself, sometimes with a friend
In the summer I’d go every day of the week
Down on the banks of Troublesome Creek

Where the muskrats play in the pale moonlight
And the turtles crawl and the catfish bite
Sometimes at night we would wade to the waist
With a seining net just to get a little taste
Bluegill and brim frying up in the skillet
If we ran across a snake you better believe we’d kill it
Hear the bullfrogs croak and the field mice squeak
Down on the banks of Troublesome Creek

If I could go back, I’d go back in a minute
I see an old car top and a little boy in it
Floating down the creek and around the bend
Such a simple life we lived back then
No reason to worry, no need to fret
Never in a hurry, as good as it gets
Sometimes the tears roll down my cheek
When I think of my life on Troublesome Creek