Sometimes I miss my colorful, summer time friends.
Faithful pals, awesome Mr. Green, glorious Mrs. White
Good buddy, Mr. Orange with the tiny yellow stripe.
I miss the crazy adventures we caused.
Public nudity on a private beach,
Holding the universe in hand like a peach.
I miss the taste of “Pretty Hate Machine”
How the beat swirled through my head
The choicest morsels left unsaid.
They’ve slipped away
One by oval one.
I have a single friend left,
Plain Mr. Blue.
He visits once a day,