Back when pots were freshly stewing;
Hoping for a beggars feast at a place we all were viewing.
Fairytales with lovers leap a woman’s flowing hair
Flowers written for a love asking love me if you dare.
We gave our words and pledged our heart’s;
We cried for those who hid behind the hedge.
We built ourselves a special place with murals in the park;
And I will always know this place it’s a road that’s cut and marked