Can we go back again
To where it all made sense
To 98 when things where great and Saturdays meant cartoons
Not 6am and work again the same day in to days out
When sundays were spent outside an adventure in the trees
Scuffed knees and cherry seeds stuck between the teeth
Where an an hour had the power to make your imagination run
Instead of counting time by the coffee grinds that settle in your cup
Where did the magic go in this adulthood trap
The only thing that seems to linger from childhood is the urge to nap...