In the street where children play and hot sun shines
I hear the call for lemonade and my heart pines
for years gone by of

The Imp

Blonde hair, blue eyes
Conniving mind in brilliant disguise
Of cute little face with sparkling eyes
And little lips

Opened the briefcase, using a nutcracker
Purposeful outlaying, without the necessity
The lock is tight, high level child's

As children play
Throughout the day
Everything seems to be okay
With sun in their eyes
On swings flying so high
They reach out