Drowsy old summer, your skies are as blue
As the skies which a dreamy-eyed youngster once knew,
An' I fancy to-day all the pictures are there--
The ships an' the pirates an' princesses fair,
The red scenes of battle, the gay, cheering throngs
Which greeted the hero who righted all wrongs;
But somehow or other, these old eyes of mine
Can't see what they did as a youngster of nine.
Drowsy old summer, I'd like to forget
Some things which I've learned an' some hurts I have met;
I'd like the old visions of splendor an' joy
Which were mine to possess as a barefooted boy
When I dreamed of the glorious deeds I would do
As soon as I'd galloped my brief boyhood through;
I'd like to come back an' look into your skies
With that wondrous belief an' those far-seeing eyes.
Drowsy old summer, my dream days have gone;
Only things which are real I must now look upon;
No longer I see in the skies overhead
The pictures that were, for the last one has fled.
I have learned that not all of our dreams can come true;
That the toilers are many and heroes are few;
But I'd like once again to look up there an' see
The man that I fancied some day I might be.
I Ain't Dead Yet
Time was I used to worry and I'd sit around an' sigh,
And think with every ache I got that I was goin' to die,
I'd see disaster comin' from a dozen different ways
An' prophesy calamity an' dark and dreary days.
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