Dollard Marlowe doesn?t live on the Kaywood Road anymore
They took him to the City to a government old age home
All of us eventually will wither and grow old
Dollard Marlowe doesn?t live on the Kaywood Road anymore
The wood pile by the back shed, the work of his withered hands
Home built of local pine, when he was a young man
Now they got him in that city compound ?til he breathes no more
I wonder if he?d rather die along the Kaywood Road
- - -
Last summer, Dollard shared a pot of Stag Creek country tea
He poured himself a shaky cup, then one for Billy and me
In leaving, we promised him we?d come again for sure
But Dollard Marlowe doesn?t live on the Kaywood Road anymore
- - -
Progress teaches all of us, we must pay its price
Electric lights are practical, but a lantern sure is nice
Don?t trust your neighbour out of fear that he might get you first
And don?t dare die until you?ve checked with the city officials first
- - -
Dollard now is crying out for the only life he knows
Cursing modern progress that took away his home
But one day soon his soul will come back to that cabin door
And stare upon the pavement they?ve laid on the Kaywood Road
No, Dollard Marlowe doesn?t live on that dusty road anymore