Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
Once it was two-four a dime.
He held her close and they danced on the lawn
and she whispers "who cares about time".
Tara is the young girl in parliament square
Sells ice cream from the bicycle cart
With her golden blonde hair, she's the head of the square.
With the deedest, and dover the heart.
And old folks, and young folks, and lovers and all.
Scrambles to Tara to find.
That the joy of a lick, from a popsicle stick
Is somehow unchanged by time.
Tara sells ice cream on parliament square,
to the old man who sits with his cane
And he stares at the ground, as the ice cream slides down off the stick
As he ponders it then
He closes his hands, as his eyes fill with tears.
For he knows, there is no hand to hold.
And he tilts down his cap, and he smiles at the bat.
The tears,or the toys or the old
Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
Once it was two-four a dime.
He held her close and they danced on the lawn
and she whispers "who cares about time".
And the old lady just sitting one bench away, she lives in the same world alone
She caresses her cat, and she picks up her hat, and decides it's time to go home.
And Tara rides off, on her bicycle cart.
And her little belt goes it's tune
And the old man gets up, and he wipes of his chin, and he shuffles on home to his room.
Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
Once it was two-four a dime.
He held her close and they danced on the lawn
and she whispers "who cares about time".
it's Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
Once it was two-four a dime.
He held her close and they danced on the lawn
and she whispered "who cares about time".
it's Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
it's Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
it's Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
it's Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
it's Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
it's Popsicles, fudgisicles, shortcake ice cream.
[Fade Out]