Riding to the post office On my red Schwinn My shoes, they have holes Because they are my favorite And I won't stop wearing them Until I get new ones I'm in weather heaven And I park my bike & Hook it up to the bar That I keep getting yelled at For hooking it up to Walk in, wait in line And there is a baby boy In a lady's arms, with Bright blue eyes and Fiery red hair, as he looks at me With wide wide eyes He soaks in everything that I am His baby brain over sensitive Firing neurons that make Him **** in every detail Overwhelming his little head And he grins a tiny, Toothless smile at me I grin & look away I wish I could have kids... I buy my stamps & send a package To my uncle Then I go unhook my bike Ride this weather like A bird & try not to think About that fiery red haired child