Gumball machines my father did own
Pennies were everywhere on his route.
For candy I never cried or moaned,
Dressing for work, he never wore a suit.
We rode all day then would stop for lunch,
Pasta was the only way to go.
On the soft bread, I would always munch,
Then we would resume Dad's gumball flow.
I'd wait in the car, the pennies in sacks
Drawing pictures of people I'd see.
I made characters of them in stacks
Dad soon came back and off we would flee.
I would put the pictures on the cars,
Of the people I'd made look real funny.
With this past-time I got pretty far,
My young life was sweeter than honey