Here I sit, on Pleasant Valley Farm
Cross-legged in my prairie, staring at the rusting barn
The pad of paper sits on my lap, as I click my pen against the dirt
I swear my mind is empty, as I ravel up my tie-dye shirt
I have no strange misfortune, or story sad enough to tell
I lack a tear-provoking childhood that would make a novel sell
I can't look back and write about how things always made me sad
For I always had a lovely family, a mommy and a dad
So here I lack the obvious, a story worth to share
Shall I write about the grass, the sky, or the pig-raisin' County Fair?
But then I got to thinkin' that that's how life's supposed to be
I put down my pad of paper, and I climbed my favorite tree
Here I sit, on Pleasant Valley Farm
My feet swingin' off this climbin' tree, and