Picture this...Autumn with huge piles of leaves...a ladder next to a tree and the boy, Superman, alert and every mindful of the evils in this world...and the magic towel draped upon his shoulders with a safety pin. He scales the tree bark as though it were the Empire State Building and like magic... leaps toward the heavens and lands in the leaves. In his mind he saved New York or some cute little freckled faced girl.

The fantasy of boyhood years still live within the man.

Reality keeps him human
Though his brand is pretty clear
He thinks he is a Superman
His conscious knows no fear
The boy in him keeps this dream
Alive from childhood days
When with towel clipped around his neck
Flying got him there
He'd jump off treelimbs with his cape
Secured with safety pin
Then with his toes still grounded
He'd capture the slightest wind
Today he lives...mere mortal
In childish dreams he plans
To save the world from demons
He still is Superman!