Trouble and me are old buddies, you see.
We go back a ways since I was just three.
It started one day when a pickle was found.
In mom's cedar chest, on her white wedding gown
And then my dad's tool box, was open one day.
And I got all his tools, for an afternoon's play.
Then there was the time, I left Jacks in the hall.
My mom, she stepped on them and took a bad fall.
Once there was a string, in the living room chair.
Which I used to try, and braid the dog's hair.
Then I turned on the water and plugged up the tub.
Ran the water over, and got dirt to make mud.
Used BB Guns, for some really good fun.
Shot mom's cedar chest, my brother he won.
Playing cops and robbers was quite a blast.
You knew when they were hit, they ran real fast.
Had a motorcycle wreck, on the back of the farm.
Doing sixty miles an hour, we didn't see any harm.
Got caught drinking beer, my cousin had bought.
Left my butt burning, that I've never forgot.
When I turned sixteen, I got me a car.
Tried to race everybody, near and far.
Tried to Outrun the cops, a time or two.
They were dads best friends, so he always knew.
Had a knock down drag out, in a parking lot.
We were dang lucky, we didn't get caught.
So trouble and me, we've been together awhile.
And when I think back on it, I have to smile.
But l feel so lucky, because my son.
I'm glad to say, had safer fun.
He stayed away from trouble, and I'm so glad.
That he never knew the kind, of trouble I had.
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