They wait all year
To hear that bell ring
And now it's July
They don't worry about a thing.

Sandy toes
And salty kisses.
Too good to be true
It's almost fictitious.

Parents ask them
Not to throw it all away
But they're young, they're kids,
And they just want to play.

That lad with the freckles
Wants an August romance
And now there's no school
He might just have the chance.

That girl with the ribbons
Can finally stay out late
And maybe one night
She might just get a date.

They embrace every day.
They congregate at the beach,
Enjoying not learning from
A teacher who can't teach.

But Summer won't last forever.
In fact, September is near.
No more under-age drinking
Upon the old pier.

They know they'll grow old
And their hair will go grey
Which is why they insist
On seizing each day.

If this was a play,
This is when they would bow,
Knowing they'll never be as young
As they are right now.