The day has finally come,
for us to cry and cheer...

We grow up always being asked one question:
what do you want to be when you grow up...

Hidden on the trunk of that tree,
are the initials of you and me...

She looks in all her old yearbooks and thinks...
most are happy, few are sad...

Have we met before?
Have I been here before...

There is a bus kids love so well,
Number 241, but shh, please don't tell...