04-06-2012, 08:35 AM
glad to see that girl riding up the path
it's Blossom Riley
straddling the bar
I raked plucked leaves from the tines
from now on mister Paris your new papergirl
I saw her around
knew her dad was Riley
the mechanic burly man with tough sons
she folded one real neat you collect when
every Friday then we'll have a pop
I save my pennies and dimes
my my Blossom
you have yes changed I save
for my paper bill in a Folger coffee can
when you can
and if in denim overalls ahead
of your paper route would you
fourteen now
stay for a bottle of Nehi grape
I keep on ice
I hear cherry cider music at the fair
all kinds of blossomings
rounding corners of side show tents
licking
vanilla scones and tossing braids
cards snapper clothespins in your spokes
sure mister Paris
I'll have a pop
now raking leaves I hear Blossom pedaling
Jacks Kings and Queens the Nine of Hearts
tat-tatting tat
past rows of hedge up the road
come around
the dew is on Sunday morning maybe
I'm gathering wood out back
don't throw under the porch
toss it spinning in early sun
bring stones I'll shine on my grinding wheel
your mouth all Nehi grape
.
.
.
.
.
Blossom turn around
bend down
pull the arrow out my heel
##
roy hobbs
it's Blossom Riley
straddling the bar
I raked plucked leaves from the tines
from now on mister Paris your new papergirl
I saw her around
knew her dad was Riley
the mechanic burly man with tough sons
she folded one real neat you collect when
every Friday then we'll have a pop
I save my pennies and dimes
my my Blossom
you have yes changed I save
for my paper bill in a Folger coffee can
when you can
and if in denim overalls ahead
of your paper route would you
fourteen now
stay for a bottle of Nehi grape
I keep on ice
I hear cherry cider music at the fair
all kinds of blossomings
rounding corners of side show tents
licking
vanilla scones and tossing braids
cards snapper clothespins in your spokes
sure mister Paris
I'll have a pop
now raking leaves I hear Blossom pedaling
Jacks Kings and Queens the Nine of Hearts
tat-tatting tat
past rows of hedge up the road
come around
the dew is on Sunday morning maybe
I'm gathering wood out back
don't throw under the porch
toss it spinning in early sun
bring stones I'll shine on my grinding wheel
your mouth all Nehi grape
.
.
.
.
.
Blossom turn around
bend down
pull the arrow out my heel
##
roy hobbs