Fast Break
In Memory of Dennis Turner, 1946-1984
A hook shot kisses the rim and
hangs there, helplessly, but doesn't drop,
and for once our gangly starting center
boxes out his man and times his jump
perfectly, gathering the orange leather
from the air like a cherished possession
and spinning around to throw a strike
to the outlet who is already shoveling
an underhand pass toward the other guard
scissoring past a flat-footed defender
who looks stunned and nailed to the floor
in the wrong direction, trying to catch sight
of a high, gliding dribble and a man
letting the play develop in front of him
in slow motion, almost exactly
like a coach's drawing on the blackboard,
both forwards racing down the court
the way that forwards should, fanning out
and filling the lanes in tandem, moving
together as brothers passing the ball
between them without a dribble, without
a single bounce hitting the hardwood
until the guard finally lunges out
and commits to the wrong man
while the power-forward explodes past them
in a fury, taking the ball into the air
by himself now and laying it gently
against the glass for a lay-up,
but losing his balance in the process,
inexplicably falling, hitting the floor
with a wild, headlong motion
for the game he loved like a country
and swiveling back to see an orange blur
floating perfectly though the net.
poem by Edward Hirsch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sounds From The Baseball Field
Batter in the home place,
That was nobly done;
Try and get the first base-
Run!
Run
! RUN!
Ah, there, short stop, will you miss?
Hear the people cheer and hiss,
Hear them yell and shout.
Twinkling legs and flying feet-
(Oh, I wonder who will beat!)
Faster, faster, out!
Umpire, umpire, go along;
That was wrong, sir, that was wrong.
Pitcher pitches, four balls,
'Take your base, my man.'
Toward the second now he crawls-
'Steal it if you can.'
Oh, the ball has gone so high,
Can they catch it on the fly?
Ah, there is no doubt,
He will get his third, I vow-
Pshaw! the ball has got there now,
'Two men out!'
Umpire, umpire, that was wrong;
Go along, sir, go along.
One man on the first base,
Not a single run.
Boys are warming to the race-
Now look out for fun.
Pitcher's arm maybe is tired;
Batter sudden seems inspired,
Grounds the ball to win.
Run there, run there, run your best,
I am screaming with the rest
'Two men in!'
Umpire, umpire, go away;
Dead wrong, dead wrong, sir, I say.
What's the matter now, pray?
Taking breath, that's all;
But the restless people say
'Play ball, play ball.'
One ball, two strikes, two balls-'Foul.'
Umpire calls, and people howl:
'What is he about?'
Run, run, run, run, Run,
Run
, RUN!
Half the inning now is done,
'Three men out!'
Umpire, umpire, go along;
You are always, always wrong.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open
I really don't know what i'm doing here
I really think i should've gone to bed tonight but...
Just one drink
And there're some people to meet you
I think that you'll like them
I have to say we do
And i promise in less than an hour we will honestly go
Now why don't i just get you another
While you just say hello...
Yeah just say hello...
So i'm clutching it tight
Another glass in my hand
And my mouth and the smiles
Moving up as i stand up
Too close and too wide
And the smiles are too bright
And i breathe in too deep
And my head's getting light
But the air is getting heavier and it's closer
And i'm starting to sway
And the hands on all my shoulders don't have names
And they won't go away
So here i go
Here i go again...
Falling into strangers
And it's only just eleven
And i'm staring like a child
Until someone slips me heaven
And i take it on my knees
Just like a thousand times before
And i get transfixed
That fixed
And i'm just looking at the floor
Just looking at the floor
Yeah i look at the floor
And i'm starting to laugh
Like an animal in pain
And i've got blood on my hands
And i've got hands in my brain
And the first short retch
Leaves me gasping for more
And i stagger over screaming
On my way to the floor
And i'm back on my back
With the lights and the lies in my eyes
And the colour and the music's too loud
And my head's all the wrong size
So here i go
Here i go again...
Yeah i laugh and i jump
And i sing and i laugh
And i dance and i laugh
And i laugh and i laugh
And i can't seem to think
Where this is
Who i am
Why i'm keeping this going
Keep pouring it out
Keep pouring it down
And the way the rain comes down hard
That's the way i feel inside...
I can't take it anymore
This it i've become
This is it like i get
When my life's going numb
I just keep moving my mouth
I just keep moving my feet
I say i'm loving you to death
Like i'm losing my breath
And all the smiles that i wear
And all the games that i play
And all the drinks that i mix
And i drink until i'm sick
And all the faces that i make
And all the shapes that i throw
And all the people i meet
And all the words that i know
Makes me sick to the heart
Oh i feel so tired...
And the way the rain comes down hard
That's how i feel inside...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twisted Logic
Sunlight opened up my eyes
to see for the first time
it opened them up
And tonight rivers will run dry
and not for the first time
rivers will run
Hundreds of years in the future
there could be computers
looking for life on earth
Don't fight for the wrong side
say what you feel like
say how you feel
You'll go backwards
but then
you'll go forwards
again
You'll go backwards
but then
you'll go
Created... then drilled and invaded
If somebody made it
Someone will mess it up
And you are not wrong to
Ask who does this belong to
It belongs to one of us
You'll go backwards
but then
you'll go forwards
and then
you'll go backwards
again
you'll go forwards
You'll go backwards
but then
you'll go forwards
again
You'll go backwards
but then
you'll go forwards
Ahhhhhhhhhh...
song performed by by Coldplay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Loco-motion
Everybodys doin a brand new dance now.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
I know youll get to like it if you give it a chance now.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
My little baby sister can do it with ease,
Its easier than learnin your abcs.
So, come on, come on, and do the loco-motion with me.
Youve got to swing your hips now,
Oooo ...
Come on,
Oooo ...
Come on.
Jump up,
Oooo ...
Jump up.
Jump back,
Oooo ...
Jump back.
Oh, well, I think youve got the knack.
Oooo ...
Woah ... woah.
Now that you can do it, well, lets make a chain now.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
A chuga-chuga motion like a railroad train, now.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
Do it nice and easy now, and dont lose control,
A little bit of rhythm and a lot of soul,
So, come on, come on, and do the loco-motion with me.
Woah ... woah.
Move around the floor in a loco-motion.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
Do it holdin hands ifn you get the notion.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
Theres never been a dance thats so easy to do,
It even makes you happy when youre feelin blue.
So, come on, come on, and do the loco-motion with me.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
So, come on, come on, and do the loco-motion with me.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
So, come on, come on, and do the loco-motion with me.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
Come on baby, do the loco-motion.
(repeat to fade)
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Happy Sadness of Golf
It’s not a sport or pastime … and usually not fun.
You’re reduced to a mumbler before you are done.
The book says to hit against your left side.
Seems like hitting the ball is what should be tried.
Then there’s that bit about not moving your head.
That’ll be no problem … as soon as you’re dead.
Down and behind the ball is what they say.
Just more of the same … your game’s going that way.
And what’s the deal about a full shoulder turn?
One try and it’s wheelchair racing to learn.
And be sure your follow-through finishes high.
No matter your shot’s an unplayable lie.
Or maybe your release wasn’t just right.
Keep the faith, hacker, the nineteenth’s in sight.
Then they wreck the course with water and rough.
Just making small holes is rotten enough.
Ah, putting; yes, putting … what a miserable part.
A three-footer with a break can tear out your heart.
The worst things of all are those ugly out-of-bounds
With their penalty strokes and club-throwing sounds.
Lessons, hope and practice … no, they’ll never pay.
Watch golf on tv … you’ll be saner that way!
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not that bad
Drop your guard
and end the fight
Turn your back
and make it right
Ignore the pain
that comes to mind
It’s not your fault
for love is blind
Forget the past and
face what lies ahead
Whatever goes wrong remember:
It’s not that bad
The future is good
that's all that counts
And the harder I am thrown
the higher I bounce
I'll dropp my guard (sorry, everytime I correct it, it goes back to wrong)
and make it right
Watch me surrender
and end the fight
So I admit defeat
but I’ll make it through
‘It’s not that bad’, is what you said
and I guess it’s true
Dedicated to a good teacher and a great mentor
poem by jools England
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Orange Leaf
Orange leaf passing by
The air is stiff
And cold
Orange leaf passing by
Flying over the snow
Orange leaf passing by
Riding over the snow.
Past the oak tree
The old house is silent
Orange leaf
Fly with the wind
And snow
Fly past the frozen lake
Fish sleeping beneath
Its crystal surface
Orange leaf
fly to the sea
And wait
To be picked up
And carried off
Orange leaf passing by
The air is stiff
And cold
Orange leaf passing by
Flying over the snow
poem by Jesse love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bounce, Rock, Skate, Roll
Bounce (yeah)
Rock, skate (yeah)
Roll, bounce
Rock, skate (ha)
Roll, bounce
It? s friday, I had to work all week
Keep the cool hip, school, gettin as and bs
Cuz if I came home with an f or a d
My mama woulda tripped about the skatin rink
But since I got that under control
Daddy said its cool, get his spark on
So I picked up the phone and called rico
I told him Id be at the rink for sure
Around 8 oclock, they began playin the grooves
That me and you like to bounce to
We rollin man, on skates for sure
A gang of homies in the corner on the dance floor
Got the skate police always on patrol
Tryin to catch you outta bunker if you gettin too close
To the girl that you groovin with
No stoppin on the floor, keep moving it
To wearing straps to my feet, criss-cross to the beat
And all the people tryin to peep the styles of the d
Cuz Im rollin, just havin a ball
No time to laugh when somebody falls
Straight bouncin
Bounce (just see), rock, skate (everbody skatin on the floor)
Roll, bounce (come on, come on)
Rock, skate (rollin, rollin, rollin)
Roll, bounce
Now its 10 oclock and the music stops
And it comes back on with a slow song
The announcer says, couples only
And then all I see is cuties rushing at me
So I chose the one that I knew could roll
Not one steady fumble on the skatin floor
Follow what the joe shootin pass me like the wind
When darnell fallin down and back up again
And bysides from the club to the video game
Playin mortal kombat, tryin to arrest the thing
To the snack bar, munch, get my drink and change
Rested up, now Im back on my wheels again
Straight bouncin
Baby d is bringin out the fine young breeds
Parties jumpin, v.i.p.
We off the heez (we off the heez)
Roller skate is one in front and one be-hind
Everybody, grab your partner, form a line
And get
Bounce, rock, skate (yeah)
Roll, bounce
And you know theres 30 minutes left
Im on my second wind and I done caught my breath
Im on to the djs booth to request a song
Baby ds on the rise, now Im up and gone
As I look to my side, I see my daddy
So smooth on the wheels like a caddy
With his afro lit it in diamonds is butch
And then i, switchin lanes at a fast pace
Losin all the slow rollers up on my way
So I can find that girl and all her friends
So we can hook next week and come do it again
Out here gettin excite, the ga way
But I learned how to skate in the golden state
Straight rollin
So everybody keep bouncin
So everybody keep bouncin
So everybody keep bouncin
Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce
Bounce (yes, youre bouncin), rock, skate
(you want to skate, yeah)
Roll (yes you do), bounce
Now everybody get your bounce on
Dan moore get your roll on
Aaron get your skate on
Britney get your bounce on
Sir will get your roll on
Ingis get your skate on
Lil james get your bounce on
Big e new x lex board
Daddy get your roll on
Big banks get your skate on
Short dogg get your bounce on
Joey get your roll on
To end
Bounce, rock, skate,roll
And everybody in oakland get your bounce on
La get your roll on
Atlanta get your skate on
Chi-town get your bounce on
New york get your roll on
Houston get your skate on
Dallas get your bounce on
Portland get your roll on
Va get your skate on
Denver get your bounce on
Vegas get your roll on
Detroit get your skate on
Miami get your bounce on
Everybody everywhere get your bounce on
Get your bounce on, get your bounce on
song performed by by Imajin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Game
On such an occasion,
Why do I say: 'Not Today'?
I don't refuse to play
But I don't like your game,
Isn't that clear?
The climate is not ready
When the conditions are only
That I accept the weather your way!
Forgive me if I don't accept
Your invitation to another round
But I would soon tear
The sticky net down
For it makes anything
To have two sides,
Attractive only to spiders and flies
And I want that curtain between us
Definitely to fall...
If it is up to me,
Boldly, I would drop
That invisible wall
And get rid of the nuisance
Once and for all...
It is as if I have an opponent
Serving me ball after ball
But I won't return them,
I want a recall! ...
I don't wish to continue the game,
The ball has dropped in my court, I see!
Do you wish me to throw it back?
And begin the same game again?
Yes, I may be a poor sportsman
But I am very bored
And I will not play this game
The same way anymore...
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moving with it
moving, moving, moving, moving, moving, moving, moving
I’m about to jump out and hit the sky close mind and
Tell it as is
like it hit the high line and walked too far
Here it comes making it seem light is here yet creates
A loving sense of determination as though it has the
High emirates
Watch out time is here biting you so hard you forget to
Look back through the rear view mirror seeing the dust
Bowl out into the cracks of the bowl and eat it like a fruit
Salad that punches you so hard you lose focus like a boxer
Hitting the soft feathered wall nice and slow.
Oh no where has it gone flew so far yet I’ m so close to
Feel your warm breath touch me like the cold eyes of
Today
Can you feel it go through you like a lighting hitting a
Simile of a red rose bleeding slow purple violet swaying
On the vines of the grapes that fed us with such a pleasant
Cold hearted death of life.
I am watched with the eyes envious love yet filled with the
Content of it all.
I require pent up motion clearing me with a heroic acts of commotions
Can’t you accommodate me and take me to the location that you locate
Don’t hear me come through the bowl that has fed me with an improper
Self correlation of it all as we ride high amongst the clouds that is now
And tomorrow shall follow it with the same sort of acting.
Basketball
Dribble, Dribble, Shoot
some times you dribble
pass or shoot
you may miss or loss
but hopefully you will shoot
at the end
poem by Ashley Kaufman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River
I see a couple of leaves
spinning around in the river
in a small whirlpool
circling back,
around and around.
A canoe glides past
with its occupant waving,
dressed in brilliant orange,
and it sails on
without loosing motion.
Tranquillity washes over me
where I am fishing
next to the fluid continuity
that looks the same,
but very subtle the hue changes
like the colour of the sky.
My eyes are on the policemen
of the fishing lines,
but I watch the vibrant river
rushing past, the deep blue sky
and some finches sitting twittering
on their nests in a willow tree.
I am here to catch some equilibrium,
to get balance in a busy life,
to hear the river’s voice,
for a time to let nature
talk to me and to experience
sun, wind, sky and breeze.
I think of you and I
and how suddenly passion
like the river gets an own power,
goes to a new high water mark
and although your body
is so familiar in aspects of shape,
texture and structure
there’s always something new.
You leave me breathless
and like the water
make me rise
in power and strength
and bring serenity to me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Connecticut Basketball
Fast break...
Dribble and reap.
Swoosh,
Through the hoop.
Speed and pace keeps the heat,
Of b-ball.
A full court press and no foul calls.
'Woof-woof...
Holla!
Woof-woof,
Holla! '
Sweating to seek the lead!
Time out delays...
A strategy to stage.
Let them make two...
Catch the rebound and follow through.
Make sure we come back to make three.
'Woof-woof...
Holla!
Woof-woof,
Holla! '
Fast break...
Dribble and reap.
Swoosh,
Through the hoop.
Speed and pace keeps the heat,
Of b-ball.
A full court press and no foul calls.
UConn's got the steam to play.
Season after season...
It's number one,
They choose to stay.
Husky ball.
Holla.
Dropping through the net.
Connecticut basketball,
At its best.
'Woof-woof...
Holla!
Woof-woof,
Holla! '
Dedicated:
To the young men and women,
balancing academic studies AND
playing championship collegiate basketball.
Representing both the state and people of Connecticut.
University of Connecticut
Storrs, Connecticut-Main Campus
'So very proud of you and your efforts!
~LSP~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beautiful Game
As you step on to the muddy field,
You feel the joy rise inside you,
The crowd roars as the players take up there positions;
And your team gets ready to kick off.
As the game commence all nervousness is lost,
Replaced by a sudden adrenaline rush,
The play goes back and forth, forth and back;
But you run on still,
nothing else concerns you but the ball.
It goes on as such for many minutes,
Until your rivals get a chance,
Your goalie tries but to your despair the ball finds the back of the net;
The crowd boos in anger and frustration.
The very next play the ball comes to you,
You run up the wing blasting by defender after defender,
You see an opening in the keeper’s defences;
You wind up to shoot and…
TWEET! You’re tackled by a defender,
Penalty shot declares the ref,
To the opposition’s protest.
You place the ball on the penalty spot,
And the once roaring crowd goes silent,
Thousands of eyes are upon you unspeaking and unforgiving,
As you wind up to shoot all time seems to stop;
And Suddenly time resumes to the roar of the crowd
And your teammates swarming around you,
At this moment you think to yourself,
Soccer, the beautiful game.
poem by Joseph Conlan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who I'm Starting To See
i use to let you tell me what to do,
i don't know why,
maybe because at the time,
i couldn't think for myself,
it was just something about you,
that made me feel special,
but, now i see what you doing,
little by little,
i see where i went wrong,
giving up part of my power,
and letting you have what you want,
i feel as if you can't trust me,
you snoop through my phone,
when i'm not looking,
just to see who i dial,
i caught you one or twice,
but you thought it was fun and games,
what is wrong with you?
little by little,
i'm starting to think i will be better off,
if only i wasn't with you,
i'm starting to feel trapped,
rather than free and opened,
my friend seem to say,
you're abit controling,
am i being blind sided?
can't really see,
what's in front of me, the whole time?
i think back of when you notice me,
it wasn't until you realize,
what you were slowly losing,
that you put in a little effort,
just to try and be with me,
but, in my eyes,
i'm starting to think it was fake,
you put up a front,
rather than just be yourself,
people don't see,
what i'm starting to see,
a guy who does more talk,
rather than take action,
i don't know why i'm still with you,
i know i'm better than this,
but, i get sucked in,
when you tell me that you miss me,
i don't know why, maybe because,
i don't like the feeling of being alone,
i've been through so much,
at times you helped me through,
other times you made jokes,
about the mistakes i made,
what kind of help are you?
you wanted to perade it,
like it was you business to tell,
what kind of friend are you?
slowly i'm starting to see the real you,
the part i lost sight on,
when everything fell apart,
to make me think,
you just wasn't the one for me.
Copyright © 2009
7-01-09
poem by Mona Martinez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No More Looking Over My Shoulder
Written by Michael Peterson & Craig Wiseman
As a child I was told that I was destined to be nothing
Growing wild as I got older I fulfilled what had been said
Hiding ignorance and fear I prayed nobody saw me bluffing
But I was laying the foundation for a future I would dread
Yeah
Seems like every choice I made would somehow leave me second-guessing
'Bout the green grass I was passing racing toward the other side
I thank God for the blessing
That I finally learned this lesson:
One Step in the right direction's worth a wasted mile behind
Chorus:
Singin'
No more lookin' over my shoulder
No more hangin' on to the past
No more filling up my tomorrows
With yesterday's sorrows
No more lookin' over my shoulder
I could chill a room with reasons why I would not give forgiveness
To the people who had selfishly left me a wounded soul
I kept dragging 'round those memories
Like a ball and chain behind me
Wonderin' why my troubles followed me wherever I would go
Oh, but one night, sick and tired of being sick and tired
I realized forgiveness was the only open road
I swear I heard those shackles snap
The moment that I took that path
I never have one time looked back since the morning I arose
Chorus
I'm singin'
No more lookin' over my shoulder
No more hangin' on to the past
No more filling up my tomorrows
With yesterday's sorrows
No more, no more, no...
No more lookin' over my shoulder
No more hangin' on to the past
No more filling up my tomorrows
With yesterday's sorrows
No more lookin' over my shoulder
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freakin’ At The Freaker’s Ball
Come on, baby, grease your lips,
Put on your hat, and shake your hips.
And don’t forget to bring your ships.
We’re goin’ to the Freakers Ball.
Shake your mojo, bang your gong,
Roll up somethin’ to take along.
Feels so good that it must be wrong
Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball.
All the fags and dykes, they’re boogyin’ together
Leather freaks all dressed in leather.
The greatest of the sadists and the masochists, too,
Screamin’ 'You hit me' and 'I’ll hit you'.
F.B.I. dancin’ with the junkies.
All the straights swingin’ with the funkies
’Cross the floor and up the wall.
Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball.
Hard hats and long hairs lovin’ each other.
Brother with sister, son with mother.
Smear my body up with butter.
Take me to the Freakers Ball.
So pass that roach, pour the wine.
I’ll kiss yours and you’ll kiss mine.
I’m gonna boogie til I go blind.
Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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It's In The Game
[DJ Clue]
Yeah... DJ Clue...Dessert Storm...EA Sports...Come on
[Fabolous]
NBA Live...2003... Fabolous...Who Gon' Stop Me!!?
[Verse 1]
I hoop with the best of them swooped up the chest of them
dunked on a bunch caught ali-oops on the rest of them
I got the lean on the "J" now
it really don't matter if we play in arenas or playgrounds
throw it around the back so it look fly when I pass
just to avoid the block go high off the glass
I'm killing them out there they gon' have to bring caskets
this all I hear after the baskets *swoosh*
but I ain't even warm up
and still pull from where it counts for 3 points and leave the form up
you must be insane if you give me the lane or perimiter
the crossover will sprain every limb on ya
I never woulda, ever coulda
thought I could come off the baseline and jump over seven-footers
soon as you step out the locker room you now can see
how live it gets in 2003
[Hook: repeat 2X]
Who gon' stop me when I'm in the lane?
I come to entertain you know its in the game
Who gon' stop me? go and get 5
I D-up with 5 you know it gets live
[Verse 2]
I'm the crowd favorite and I believe the fans
love the way I finger roll it with either hand
my handles pull it through presses plus I can play the lane
and block shots like bulletproof vestes
I often be found in the paint waiting for I miss
so I can slam it back off the rebound
then I show off with class
look the other way when I throw off a pass
call it when I go off the glass
hope ya'll play better "D"
or I'ma keep scoring until the coach hold his hands like the letter "T"
When I put pressure on the ball they be feeling on lo
song performed by by Fabolous
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Hear That Swishh!
Screeching of shoes all over the court
evrytime I step on that floor
After first jump like Dwight
I run for ring like Wall, faster than light
With that ball in my possession I just don't stop
Do everything I was told by Doc
Perfect is the word for the moves I make
Or the smart pass which set the ball for Blake
Wid my team I try to make history
Just like Kobe I lead them to victory
Shooting the Ray of hope from d perimeter
Workng hard evrytime to become better
When it comes to defnce... I do evrything I can..
I can leave my soul but I never leave my man
never let ne bomber to cross d yellow line
When ever the ball goes in air.. the claim is always mine
My fakes like Rose's is a trouble the others
I play my best evrytime, no discrimination on color
LeBron gave me his title of king
Cz of d music I make with that ring
for evrythng I thank god & for more I wish
When I shoot & hear that swishh!
poem by Paritosh Dhawan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Look At Me Now
Tennis ball and a catcher's mitt
I remember that boy throwing it
High up in the air then catching it
While the oak tree leaves cheered
Oh,look at me now All grown up looking back again
Sitting here wondering where the time all went
What do I know now that I didn't know then
Not much
Oh, look at me know,
On the fifty-first floor looking down on it all
With my name on the door and degree on the wall
Yeah, Look at me now
(Chorus)
I did everything right, but I got it all wrong
Heaven please forgive me for taking so long
You see, all that I've done it doesn't matter at all
It's what I leave here when I'm gone
Oh, look at me now
Where is that young boy I used to be
Who was never afraid of anything
Now I'm watching that clock catch up with me
And it's frightening
(Chorus)
Oh, Look at me now
All grown up looking back again
Sitting here wondering where the time all went
What do I know now that I didn't know then
Tennis ball and a catcher's mitt
I remember that boy throwing it
High up in the air then catching it
While the oak trees cheered
(Chords)
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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