We are the dust that moves across this town
When I was young everything was golden all around
When the fair came to town, and the sawdust on the ground
The sounds of the carnival filled the air
Stay gold now

The ice on Jennings pond is all we need to
Just last week it dropped below 19 degrees
All the girls will be there and we just try not to stare
And you would pray that sun would not go down

Far out of sight far away from the city lights
I threw away all of my history
Its hard to explain you might think its a little strange
Its a crazy little town, oh and I would have to agree
Its just Oak Ridge to me

On the summer days you walked to the reservoir
Or you can ride your bike to Willards country store
The graveyard held the football games
We saw the stones and we read the names
But we were much too young to understand

I left home in my 18th year.
But if I close my eyes the crickets I still hear
If you listen real close you can hear our ghosts
Riding on through the trails in old pierce avenue