Patience, the girl we see on the sand with the squint and parasol low.
Sweethearts are sewn 'tween the cloth of her cuff,
A shell in her little tight hand; soon she'll be going away
With her bottle of sand tomorrow from the shores of yesterday.

Come see her move and be in our old fashioned backward look,
Just like an old movie, talking and real like when it was took.
Bats, balls and Tomboys, cheeky and gruff,
Faint sounds of a distant brass band, who rides the donkey today,
Will our visions of tomorrow mingle with those of yesterday ?

Come, close your eyes and hear melodies from an old music box,
Tinkling as tandems and tears go tumbling like tresses and small perfumed locks,
Sweet dreams were sewn 'tween the years of her life
A tear in her little kerchief, waving and fading away
With her ottled sand tomorrow, from thnbe shores of yesterday.
Will her visions of tomorrow mingle with those of yesterday ?

Come take a look with me in an old fashioned picture book