An Old Sunday ------------- Atticus of an old Sunday When you past me sitting on the step On the porch, waiting for thunder And all of you came by like a parade Atticus, walking for hunger There is suffering in the world you said At seventeen, I was in 1st grade I couldn't think of anything to say My sisters have soldiers to pray for And they receive their presents in the mail And Atticus, I was just thinking I could pray for you and all your friends There was a cloud of him, sunday fuller, something to come And I got you bunches of azalea I gave you bunches of azalea You say, "Look at the flowers, look at the flowers" And I thought I could keep all mine And Atticus, I was so happy when I said good-bye to you and your parade
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