Backpack Days

(ahh-hmmm) Faded chalk on asphalt tiles

Big red backpacks, simple smiles

Trading stickers in the shade

Of the massive oak tree that we made

Our fortress, our home

Waiting for the bell to ring

Running fast to find the swing

Here it comes

Oh, the playground years,

they flew so fast

We never thought they wouldn't last

With your knees scraped up and a paper crown We ruled the

yard of that little town (ooh-ooh-ooh)

Lunchboxes with plastic keys

Juice box stains on muddy knees

Writing letters in the back

With a box of crayons,

sixty-pack

Just tracing our dreams

Lost in the afternoon sun

(we were just beginning) (hmmm-mm)