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you once asked what we'd do tomorrow
and the next 'til summer's done
so I answer, "everything, that's all,
until all the world's been won
we'll build tire-swings and tree-forts
and hang our shoes in trees
and build palaces of blankets
to store our fighting dreams
and string cans across two fences
to whisper daring plans
of swings and swords and slides and scandals
with helmet pots and pans
and we'll run until we're laughing
just to fall asleep on hills
as the sky's white dragons turn to grey
and pour our stomachs' fill”
“well, you speak of only mountains
and not of holes,” say you
“there are valleys dark and damp and deep,
where it is void of bright and blue”
“if you go into those valleys,” say I
“and I hope you stay away,
I swear I’ll point you at the sun
when there seems to be no other day
you see
I’ve heard coffee stains build character
and love's no cup o' tea
but we'll unveil a world of wonder
of whistling walks
and bluebird wings
and hanging willow trees"
"okay," you say real softly and smile with your lips
"but as for now, lets dance a dance with lots of spins and dips"
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