Jay Doiron's Blog

Poem

Back in old times, the bell above the door. Chimed a tune as we entered the corner store—Rows of glass-bottled sodas, licorice jars, a jukebox humming through cigarette scars. Outside, a ’65 Chevy gleamed in the sun, chrome and red leather, days slow and spun. Back in old times, a needle would fall onto a spinning record—music for all, while cassette tapes tangled in glovebox dreams, and retro computers blinked green-lit schemes. we played 8-bit adventures on rainy afternoons, pixelated heroes beneath cathode moons. Back in old times, the tube TV glowed with static and shadows, the glass screen bestowed. A soft kind of magic, a flickering hue, no internet’s tangle, just three channels to view. No mobile phones buzzed in our palms or our heads—We passed folded notes, let old map books be read. Back in old times, the diner car shone with silver and neon, a world of its own, milkshakes and sundaes on Formica bright, laughter and longing deep into the night. Back in old times, with so little, we found a slowness, a wonder, a comfort profound.

Audio

Lyric

[Verse]
Kids ran wild in the fading light
Barefoot rebels chasing the night
No screens
Just stars
And fireflies bright

[Prechorus]
Paper routes and skipping stones
A world of wonders
All our own

[Chorus]
Back in old times
When the world felt slow
Dinner talk was the only show
Phones would ring
They'd spin around
Every moment had its sound
Back in old times
Oh
We didn’t know

[Verse 2]
Newspapers folded
Ink on your hand
Stories shared like castles in sand
Typewriter clicks were a marching band

[Prechorus]
Fingers danced on rotary dials
Life was simple
Measured in smiles

[Chorus]
Back in old times
When the world felt slow
Dinner talk was the only show
Phones would ring
They'd spin around
Every moment had its sound
Back in old times
Oh
We didn’t know