As a child I walked, no ran, downtown
a dollar grasped in hands that wanted to move small plastic armies
to Woolworth's for a bag of soldiers in Gloversville

Then as the places that made things left
and Main Street began to starve and it's abandoned bones bleached in the Adirondack sun
We drove to shop, like everyone else in Gloversville

Standing once proud and full of life
Then left to decay and die
The resurrection of the Schine brings light to Gloversville

In the midst of the abandoned and empty
a spark grows to a small flame
and a more vibrant life returns to Gloversville