Long  ago and far away, in a land that time forgot,
Before the days  of Dylan, or the dawn of Camelot.
There  lived a race of innocents, and they were you and  me,

For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges, and  Peyton Place was porn.

We learned to gut a muffler,  we washed our hair at dawn,
We spread our crinolines to  dry in circles on the lawn.

We longed for love and  romance, and waited for our Prince,
And Eddie Fisher  married Liz, and no one's seen him since.

We danced  to 'Little Darlin,' and sang to 'Stagger Lee'
And cried  for Buddy Holly in the Land That Made Me,  Me.

Only  girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many,
And  only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean  McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams did we  expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick, in the  Land That Made Me,  Me.

We fell for Frankie Avalon, Annette was oh, so nice,
And  when they made a movie, they never made it twice.

We didn't have a Star Trek Five, or Psycho Two and  Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty in the Land That Made Me,  Me.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T,
And Oprah couldn't  talk yet, in the Land That Made Me,  Me.
We  had our share of heroes, we never thought they'd  go,
At  least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth  was still eternal, and life was yet to be,
And Elvis was  forever in the Land That Made Me,  Me.

We'd never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be  Dead,
And Airplanes weren't named Jeffersson, and Zeppelins were not Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkees  lived in trees,
Madonna was a virgin in the Land That  Made Me,  Me.

We'd  never heard of microwaves, or telephones in cars,
And  babies might be bottle-fed, but they weren't grown in  jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and 'gay' meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never coed in the Land  That Made Me,  Me.

We hadn't seen enough of jets to talk about the lag,
And  microchips were what was left at the bottom of the  bag.

And Hardware was a box of nails, and bytes came  from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction in the Land That Made Me,  Me.

Buicks  came with portholes, and side shows came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles, and skirts below the knee,
And Castro came to power near the Land That Made Me,  Me.

We had no Crest with Fluoride, we had no Hill Street  Blues,
We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for condoms in the Land That Made  Me,  Me.

There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda, and cats were not called  Bill.

And middle-aged was 35 and old was  forty-three,
And ancient were our parents in the Land  That Made Me,  Me.

But all things have a season, or so we've heard them  say,
And now instead of Maybelline we swear by Retin-A.

They send us invitations to join AARP,
We've come a long way,  baby, from the Land That Made Me,  Me.

So now we face a brave new world in slightly larger  jeans,
And  wonder why they're using smaller print in  magazines.

And we tell our children's children of  the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away in the Land  That Made Me,  Me.
 

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