It was a memory of me
sitting
on a donkey,promenading
along the sandy beach,I feel sad
that yesterday is out of reach and yet
I can still touch upon
that ride along and still I see
the dripping nose of that grey donkey as I
hung on,but yesterday has gone
the donkey too and memory's no use to me or you,
still it comes,
with sherbet dips and real cap guns and I still sit
and take my ride
somewhere deep
deep down inside,