the repetitive days grow tiring so extremely uninspiring as i remember the times when things were so simple where we had smiles so big you saw dimples the dusty chalk left on the porch stairs the house's unfinished repairs the creak of the wooden doors the kitchen's tiled floors the chipped paint on the walls and none of it bothered me at all my mind held no worries my heart was never in a hurry oh, to go back to the days my teary eyes look back in a gaze, looking back on the shadow that it once was i want my adrenaline rushing from running too fast i want the green stained knees from sliding on the grass i want to taste the salty tears on my cheeks from scraping my knees i want the calluses from climbing sticky trees i want the brush burn from going down the static-feeling slide even if the bruises and scratches make me cry i would go back in a heartbeat because those days were oh so sweet being a kid on Grape Street