The last days of summer were beautiful indeed
how we spent our time meant everything to children
even the heat that made us complain drifted by
left on our own we played baseball until sunset
as the fall came to pass football became our sport
streets littered with children playing silly kid's games
those days are now long gone we all grew up so fast
daylight fades from the sky we became dead inside
as winter made the air grow chill we played hockey
yes we were forced to play in the dark the street lamp
served to set our goal lines with nets to catch a puck
old old old no longer in touch to talk about those days
for no one cares to speak or remember the past
summoned to do greater things expected of us
under the watchful eye of parents and neighbors
mothers and fathers made sure we made fine adults
maybe someone became a criminal who knows
even our small network was looked at with envy
really we were no good none of us were boy scouts
we helped no one to do what they needed get done
enter the world of kids who know nothing at all
retain control of street activity the cars
even knew to drive slow along Sanderson Lane
big shots born into bad families bring trouble
everywhere they settle down as fat cat adults
act in their own interest we liked but did not love
unless it was in our interest to love someone
take a group of latchkey kids who knew no better
in this glorious world other than to conquer
for win or lose we played our games inside or out
under the summer heat or hiding from the rain
left on our own we grew up hard and cold inside
if our parents wouldn't shell out for little league
nobody could blame them they brought us together
demon children who asked for the sun and the sky
even if we could change the past never would we
everything was given to us those lousy boys
devils who demand stars for payment for breathing
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