The big iron bridge was just down the hill
Right past grandads house and uncle Bill’s
A big iron bridge two tons of guard rails
With arched curves and rivets your hand could trail
It was decorated with heavy-girders and piers
A place as kids we played and mama had no fears
Underneath our secret hiding place
We’d choose up sides and have a race
We had to cross the creek that was the finish line
Sometimes we would fall in but we laughed we didn’t mind
Swinging from the grape vines and climbing all the trees
Really we were doing everything that we pleased
Our bridge was our playground no mortar and bricks
We could sit all day just playing with rocks and sticks
Underneath the strong wings of our bridge we played
If mama hadn’t called us home it’s where we would have stayed
Our Bridge was where we went to hang around
The Bridge not too far is where we could always be found
