The Summer days lingered endlessly,

We counted the time until we went to the country,

Surveying the mango groves were the only things that made sense,

Or taking a ride with Busha in his big, shiny truck that was worth more than six pence,

The Summer winds tossed our hair into the wind,

At that moment we didn't feel like children,

We were just human beings having a pleasant experience,

Calling out to folks as we swished and sashed by,

Riding the bumps with not even a sigh,

The vastness we knew would stay with us for a lifetime,

Riding with Busha made our world more exciting,

We felt as if we could do anything,

Up and down the country roads learning about life and other peoples' loads,

Riding with Busha was more than an excursion,

It taught us to live life without any coercion.