“Greens o greens, where art thou gone?”
Cries the boy standing on the brink of fading green,
all alone.
Where art thou gone, o lovely days of yesteryears,
The eyes search for lost days amid hot streaming tears.
As he stands on the edge of time preparing for the final leap,
The greens call him back, they who he yearned to keep,
They who he desired more than anything else,
They who could shield him against adulthood’s treacherous spells.
“Greens, o greens, will you not come back for me?
I want you; I want to be free,”
Cries the boy with his heart bleeding out dry.
He wants to go back to the days when he was but a small fry.
“Green, my friend paint me all over again,
I want to be back to my yonder days,
I want to be a child again,
I want to walk back,” so the child says.
But lo! No one listens to his words,
His pitiful cries ringing out in the distance,
He takes his final step forward,
And passes into the realm of adult existence.
Cries the boy standing on the brink of fading green,
all alone.
Where art thou gone, o lovely days of yesteryears,
The eyes search for lost days amid hot streaming tears.
As he stands on the edge of time preparing for the final leap,
The greens call him back, they who he yearned to keep,
They who he desired more than anything else,
They who could shield him against adulthood’s treacherous spells.
“Greens, o greens, will you not come back for me?
I want you; I want to be free,”
Cries the boy with his heart bleeding out dry.
He wants to go back to the days when he was but a small fry.
“Green, my friend paint me all over again,
I want to be back to my yonder days,
I want to be a child again,
I want to walk back,” so the child says.
But lo! No one listens to his words,
His pitiful cries ringing out in the distance,
He takes his final step forward,
And passes into the realm of adult existence.
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