family 1

We return each day to the television

To watch a spot of sweet light.

When the same child comes running up

With a lesson done well, we delight

And kiss away our worries. She comes looking

After you with what is known to please,

Her happiness is sunlight.

And Sunday comes and stills time

For you to move at will.

 

The expectancy of these

Help us fulfill the long hours.

 

And if these fade away

The hours lengthen

Until there are no more any lessons

And her interest is kind of diffused.

But Sunday comes still

And you are forced to move at will.

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