Sometimes I wish I could go back,
To when I was a child, innocent and young,
To that dream like perspective, safe from
Pressure and responsibility,
When the world was bright and beautiful

How a simple walk through the neighborhood,
Brought excitement with the sight of,
The little birds,
Perched atop the liquor store,
Or the towering plan trees,
High above our heads

How the same sights,
Now ignored and meaningless,
As we walk by, now chasing 'dreams',
Now walking through the bleak abyss of maturity.