Give me the dreamland of childhood

where the noonday sun shines

all day life-singing long,

and the icky banaki

of the egernaging laki

give me such joy,

and make no sense!

No, no, no,

I don’t want to grow up,

I don’t want to grow up,

no,  no not me,

I don’t want to grow up,

but just give me again

the great fun of my dreamland,

and the romping silly frolics

that sunny childhood brings,

and the icky banaki,

of not plannin’ nuthin’ where

there’s no such thing as double negatives,

and ain’t, ain’t, ain’t are all words!

No, money ain’t allowed in my dreamland,

but the Lone Ranger and Hopalong Cassidy are

because they’re the only ones with guns,

and chickens sing zippety-doo-da,

with no thought of what they do

to Disney stock,

and us kids skip with the cows down at the barn,

and I lay there and dream

in the foot-tall grass

with nary a scheme

about what I’ll do

when I do grow up,

but it’s an icky banaki egernaki laki dream,

maybe me and God create a few new worlds,

we give them their spins,

watch their lives kick in,

I take a ride with Gabby Hayes,

and marry Judy Garland,

or not,

just roll that rock over to look at the sow bugs,

or nuthin’,

just go where I will,

watch the sun spots through the holes in my ballcap,

yeah, yeah, yeah ain’t it great

to be fun,

unplanned,

unstrung,

just young!

Copyright 2009, Jerry W. Engler