Across the fields of yesterday He sometimes comes to me,A little lad just back from play -- The lad I used to be.
And yet he smiles so wistfully Once he has crept within,I wonder if he hopes to see The man I might have been.
Across the fields of yesterday He sometimes comes to me,A little lad just back from play -- The lad I used to be.
And yet he smiles so wistfully Once he has crept within,I wonder if he hopes to see The man I might have been.
© Jones Jr. Thomas S.