I remember when playing in the mud used to be fun.
With no regret as to how dirty we would get,
When play clothes were different from school clothes.
Knowing we were doing something that we shouldn't was OK,
Because we were having fun,
And there were always other days to do what was right.
Watching the sun go down while sitting in the mud was devastating,
I remember it was always our call to go in,
When the sky was pink not blue.
We made some great things out of nothing but mud,
And we were proud of them.
Whether we tasted them or not,
They were always considered in our eyes to be great.
I remember when playing in the mud used to be fun.
But then again it probably still is.
To those who have the imagination enough,
To see something great out of nothing but mud.
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