Old Time Rock and Roll spinning in the jukebox.
Pinball wizard dropping quarters,
drinking Fanta, eating Pop Rocks.
He asked for my number. We hung out all summer.
Agree shampoo, Sweet Honesty perfume,
among other intoxicating things,
wafting from the shower rooms.
Shooting pool, raft races, holding hands, making faces. Just a couple of country kids with big city dreams.
Innocence ended too soon.
Sped up by Cherry Smash Kissing Potion,
the back seat, and a blue moon.
Love confused with hormone-fueled passion.
It’s been 40 years since those days in the sun,
but when that one summer at Miami Campgrounds shines through my memory, I feel forever young.