Processions

A small boy, bucket in hand Building castles in the sand Thinking of his life that lies ahead An engine driver, sailor, why not a king Of the sand castle as the gypsy woman said Taking a ride on a dinkie rail A green engine that's old Could be a royal procession through Big city streets Waving to the crowds from a sand carpet of gold Shaking hands of the V.I.P.'s one meets Sailing a toyboat in a rockpool Thinking that it could be The Queen Mary, passing the Cape Horn tip Something majestic, sailing world wide seas Attention please, I'm the captain of the ship After all these thoughts and more The boy returned to find That the sandcastles had been washed into the sea Head in hands, eyes full of tears And a mixed up mind The gypsy woman can't foresee the years --- Processions - Family