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We've lost a few things special as we've become
more refined
Like a boy going barefoot in the good old summertime
I sometimes think about my boyhood and the last
haft of May
When I'd start going barefoot on the first really hot day
I can remember the freedom that I then once knew
When for the summer I discarded my uncomfortable shoes
My feet were so tender I'd often prance around
But they felt terrific on the cool and moist ground
At least once each summer I'd step on some glass
And be out of commission but that quickly passed
By early or late August only leather shoes could
match
My toughen soles that could brave any briar berry patch
I was happy without a nickel and the playground
was my land
Wading water puddles was fun and so was playing in the sand
My contentment ended when the school bells rang
out the news
It was back to the books; and on my feet were some new shoes |
