It's 4 o'clock and I'm out the door. The air is cold but my body is oh so warm. There he sits just waiting for a friend, like me, with the old man I sit I stand. He said, "Hey Oosh how was the pool? It's almost fall are you ready for school?"
"Mr. Fuse, I suppose...tomorrow gotta go buy new clothes." The snow came and put his chairs inside. Saw and empty yard at every morning's ride. The grass grew he took a seat once again, smoking his cigar, knew it was spring just then. He said, "Hey Oosh how was your year? Did you learn all that's goin' on out there."
"Mr. Fuse, I suppose...you know how second grade goes." It's true, it always did, it always does. What's past this curb skips a beat like in love. As I was called on home, he laid still. I'll be back some day my friend, I wish I could sit with him. Sitting there we had a grand old time. Little boy and old man watching the world go by. The ice took over the New Jersey stones, we went alone in our own homes. Another time around the sun, school let out it was time for fun. But Mr. Fuse he wasn't there, I could find him anywhere. "Oh Mom and Dad where could he be? He's always there sittin' across the street." They sat me down, and told me about life. "We're sorry, but he died." Oh how I cried. It's true, it always did, it always does. What's past this curb, skips a beat, like in love. As I was called on home, he laid still. I'll be back someday my friend, why'd this world have to end?
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