ROSE TINTED BINOCULARS

A time ago when I would run the grass would barely bend
The laws of physics and myself were not considered friends

I would fly along at such a pace my shadow would surrender
Before a letter was even sent I could return to sender

I could jump from any crazy height and land without a mark
I could tumble down most any hill, make a fire from a spark

My hands would very rarely rest upon my handlebars
The road was but a playground for weaving through the cars

From our secret lair we could watch the world and never once be seen
If dirt was steel I was a magnet with not an inch left clean

Ghost stories made the short walk home last a thousand years
A multitude of hidden things to fertilise my fears

I made a fairly decent dent into the sugar mountain
And quenched my never-ending thirst with a sticky fizzy fountain

Trees were climbed and blood was spilled and bees were caught in jars
And our hearts came tumbling from our mouths as we lay and watched the stars