Tracks past, not well remembered.
Old folks with minds unclear.
Hard to get history, hard to get news,
on all the race tracks from yesteryear.
Back in the day, television years away.
Fans flocked to the tracks that were near.
Excitement and drama drew them like flies,
to all the race tracks from yesteryear.
Whip-O-Will Speedway, a track in the south.
It was big, like a vast frontier.
Pop. 0, but a grocery was built over,
all the race tracks from yesteryear.
Gainesville Raceway, built on farmland.
They dreamed of a lake called Lanier.
Wet people can now ski and swim,
on all the race tracks from yesteryear.
Canton Speedway, a track in the country.
Poof, it was gone, a diamond appeared.
Kids can now hit their fake home runs,
on all the race tracks from yesteryear.
Rome Speedway, my brother raced there.
Decided to make it a career.
Happy little families in happy little homes,
on all the race tracks from yesteryear
Dallas Speedway had racist grandstands.
Now mobile homes share woods with deer.
Oddly enough, the grandstands still stand,
next to all the race tracks from yesteryear.
Peach Bowl Speedway, a short little oval.
Raced fifty years and then disappeared.
A maintenance station was far more exciting,
than all the race tracks from yesteryear.
Lakewood Speedway the most famous of all.
A one mile dirt oval drivers feared.
Two racers died and people cried, bye bye,
to all the race tracks from yesteryear.
Kids at the mall, in their brand new clothes.
Throwing their money at the cashier.
Not knowing or caring, beneath shiny new shoes,
are all the race tracks from yesteryear.
R. S. Morris