We will never leave the picnic at Thompsondale our mothers ever beautiful in their summer dresses Our fathers with straw hats and colored suspenders

The blanket spread upon the meadow cane poles strung bobbers dancing over the slow moving stream

The grape leaves gathered in the basket will never be taken home the sandwiches will be eaten again and again And clouds will gather and part the sun will rise and recede night will come And then tomorrow again and again