Isn’t growing old,
It’s loosing,
Loosing friends,
Those you admired,
Those you treasured,
Those you thought gave you worth,
Those I love leaving,
Moving away,
Leaving for ever,
And I still that sixteen year old kid,
Who wanted to reach,
The platform that on actuality gave me worth,
I loved the Monkey’s,
Saturday morning was better because that’s when they arrived in the Heike’s living room,
I imaged I was Davy Jones,
Rural Iowa girls who were gay could only imagine being a part of a world where we fit in,
That’s what this group gave me a chance to fit in.
Bye Mickey,
Thankyou,
Val Whitewolf 