As a kid I grew up in the city,
we were poor, but I just didn't know.
Lived in places that weren't very pretty,
in tenements with rents that were low.
An older couple lived in our building
on the floor where we were, 'cross the way.
They were kind, had a soft spot for children,
called me over to their place one day.
Right inside the door there sat an old bike,
that was fixed up and painted bright blue.
They asked, "Was it something that I'd like?"
then they said, "Take it home, it's for you."
My excitement was great and politely,
I thanked them and wheeled the prize home.
My brother and I rode it nightly,
through our neighborhood we both would roam.
On the back I rode as Robbie pedaled,
the envy of friends that we had.
A blue dream made of rubber and metal,
grateful for this old bike that we had.
The couple moved away from our building,
never knew all the joy that they gave.
The impact they had on poor children,
that sweet memory never will fade.
|
