Happy As Poop

Oh for the days of my long lost youth Making paper airplanes, watching em glide Looping like barnstorming pilots of the 30s Above the tree tops like birds they fly Our imagination never saw paper airplanes We saw ourselves as pilots on board Soaring skyward with not a worry in the world We could even hear the engines roar Another favourite pastime was climbing trees Just like masts on a pirate ship Looking out on the ocean with a telescope A musket hanging from our hip Another fantasy, being a famous hockey star Heard the cheering of adoring fans Dreaming at night, scoring the winning goal No more school, no more final exams Oh for the old days, hmm perhaps I'll rethink that It's pretty damn good from where I sit Each stage in life has it's own special happening Now? I'm happy as a piggy in !!!