Schools out, rules out, consequences melt with our popsicles.

 

We can do anything, anything at all as long as no one snitches.

 

That's the unwritten rule that everyone knows.

 

It’s the rule that if broken will end poorly in others' hands.

 

Lest we find a form lying broken, upon the hated lands.

 

Our spot was special . . .  no parents, no cares, no curfew. We all wanted to stay there . . . live there . . .  all seven days of the week.