With rusty cans and broken glass, we’d planned a home so nice;
But they dumped their brick and mortar in our little paradise.
They dumped their brick and mortar ’mid the smoky lakes of lime,
Yet we won’t forget, ’twas Eden—Eden, once upon a time.
Eden, where we dreamed supremely—rusty can and coffee pot;
Eden, with the weeds and rubbish, in a vacant city lot.
And now, we’re simply waiting, oh, that janitor’s boy and me,
Until the janitor’s boy grows up and finds himself quite free
To just discover areas where builders never go,
Where we may live forever in a little bungalow.