This is where the sidewalk ends
Our little red ball has gone over the edge
Children keep their innocence in a bag
Broken and pieced together with glue and wire
Hoping to get a few more years out of it
(more)
Before the batteries die, and
The magic wears off
We can never go back home
It’s never quit as warm
The cold chill of reality slowly
Creeps in like a draft in your old
Childhood bedroom
Playtime, we could be anything, everything
We had the world on a string, but
Who held the scissors?
Now the toys are in the attic
Our innocence in the ground
Glimmer of hope replaced
With chains and padlocks
I see the laughter of these children
And I wonder
When does that feeling leave us?
Who decides?
The shackles of youth?
But, that was the last time we were truly alive (less)
