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| It's time to pack up the toys, run our last mow. |
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| build our last sand castle, with the sand in our toes. |
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| slide down our slide choo choo train style |
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| waiting for our last crop to turn...it may be a while. |
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| take in the last of the sun, this may be our last call |
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| before the cold crisp air fills the town and the color changing leaves begin to fall. |
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| The tans will fade but the memories will last...until next year, a new Summer...a new dream, it too will pass. |
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