The world in black and white waits around the corner
Waiting just to hold your hand and take you to the street
Where your neighbors all come outside
And watch you float away

Here comes, here goes
Your future in a bottle
All lotioned up and silver
Sitting in the sun
Your popsicle melts
And sizzles
The eggs on the sidewalks
Over easy
With the townsfolk
Waiting

In your backyard sits
A homemade oven
Built with tin foil and plexiglass
An old cardboard box and a thermometer
From the medicine cabinet

The street smells like ribs
And the roads all breathe it in
The cars
In their never ending jam
Thank heavens as they roll past your door
And you are on the front porch waving
With a tear in your eye