It's the dangedest thing! All of a sudden
I'm having these thoughts about what once was sullen
Well, truly, they've always been happy memories
But for a while they hurt to feel and to read
Yet here I am. Staring out of this window
An old bus trip down, and thinking of California
At the thought of the roof, on which we sat and swayed
Or the red of the sun, in which my hands waved
Mountains upon mountains! And then flatness and still
nothing quite like it over on this side of the hill
Well I suppose we have seasons, unlike those breadbowlers
and we tend to make our mountains out of molehills
I digress though—and setting both East and West aside—
Don't you ever think back on those good times?
An orange off a tree, and a piggy back through the park
I'm chuckling now, my fellow travelers must think me out of stock
No shame back then, and still no shame now.
I'm happy with who I am, and there's just no foul
to remembering the better times that we once had
Despite this distance, I'm still just as glad.