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Sycamore Street
  It’s set to be a sunny day on Sycamore Street.
  The air is salty,
  A cool breeze blows, and
  Miles away on the old man’s farm:
  A single rooster crows.
  Its sound travels miles and miles,
  Over the fields and
  Through piles of hay
  It acts as a perfect alarm clock,
  To wake the residents of Sycamore
  On the first day of May.
  The Sun is rising on Sycamore Street
  The children are playing;
  Bare feet, tiny toes.
  They run through the yard,
  Setting dominos in rows.
  The Sun is shining on Sycamore Street
  A young girl
  Walks alone
  Typing into some sort of device
  Her cell-phone has probably taken over her life.
  The sunshine is dimming on Sycamore Street
  As a couple entertains their newborn child,
  Laying with him,
  Swaying with him;
  Their wrapped up bundle of joy.
  Happiness is at it’s high
  Thanks to their baby boy.
  The sun is setting on Sycamore Street
  A mother sends her child away,
  He’s headed off to College today
  Her eyes still tear up again as she says goodbye
  Yet it isn’t the first time.
  The sun has set on Sycamore Street
  The old man on the farm falls into his sleep
  He missed sending his grandson back to school;
  His son is married with a daughter
  And another newborn child
  They haven’t visited him in quite a while
  Yet he still falls asleep with a gentle smile,
  He takes comfort in that
  The next morning,
  A single rooster will crow,
  And though they are miles and miles apart
  The same rooster will bring their days to a start.

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