The Creek That Was
 by:  Verne Garrison, May 15, 2008
at Valley Park,  Mo.

Banjo tuned to E played in key of D

There (D) was a (G) little (D) creek,
That ran thru the old Edwards (A) place
I used (D) to  pass (G) it every (D) week
But now it is (A) barely a (D) trace

Navy beans, little (G) democrats, my dad called (D) them
Would soak all day in a pot of that creek (A) water
They (D) were the main (G) course 
Of my grandparents (D) supper

That little creek (G) is now grown (D) over
Corporate farmers plowed it (A) shut
They (D) got three more (G) feet for their (D) rovers
Sealed shut, our memories (A) to satisfy their (D) glut

But I can (G) still picture (D) it
Like it was when my dad was a (A) lad
With (D) his (G) little wooden (D) bucket
Drawing water for (A) their supper, how (D) glad

I can still (G) see where it (D) was,
When I drive by the old (A) place
Hidden (D) in the (G) grassy (D) waterway
Ignoring the farm tractors (A) noisy (D) buzz

Yes, they boiled (G) their navy (D  beans
Little democrats is what my dad called (A) them
In that (G) clear, clean creek (D) water
The creek (A) that (D) was..

No creek there no more..