Antiques Store from Springtime Treats by The Great Gambino

Another rainy Sunday
Laying around and feeling bored
So I hopped into my car
And headed for the antiques store

A warehouse of vintage items where
Nostalgia freaks feast
Collected from flea markets
And the homes of the deceased

I wandered by all the usual
garbage from the past
What sparked my interest was a
shoebox of old photographs

Women in one piece bathing suits
All gathered by a lake
A Memorial Day parade and
some shots from somebody’s wake

Christmas Eve at auntie’s house
baby’s first loose tooth
A portrait of some guy who
resembled John Willocks Booth

I wondered how many
generations had to go by
For these for photos to resurface
For how many had to die?

Shoeboxes of photographs that nobody has claimed
Shoeboxes of families that nobody can name

If you’re lucky you’ll be someone’s memory and more
And when they’re gone they’ll be someone’s memento in a drawer
And when that someone’s also gone their someone will be torn
Between a closet or a shoebox at some antiques store

What can you tell me about your
Late great great grandfolks
Did they often play kick the can
And stick playing cards in their spokes

Did they meet in school or in the war
Or skipping down the lane
Can you tell me what they look like
Do you even know their names?

Did you know your late great great granddad
Spent time in the marines
And he worked for many years
In a factory canning sardines

And your late great great grandma
Raised six children
And loved to sew
Well unless you looked through shoeboxes
How the hell would you know?

Shoeboxes of photographs that nobody has claimed
Shoeboxes of families that nobody can name

If you’re lucky you’ll be someone’s memory and more
And when they’re gone they’ll be someone’s memento in a drawer
And when that someone’s also gone their someone will be torn
Between a closet or a shoebox at some antiques store

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