Pancake Saturdays

Pancake Saturdays , Ray Scott When they were just two little girls, They had the best birthday parties Beautiful girls And all’ the big wide world seemed so full of such promises Beautiful world That I've tried to keep Holding on so tight In a globe of glass Shaken up inside It just might not last Or it turns too fast Ain’t we the lucky ones that it won’t matter in the end? What we’ve been fighting for again and again And all the wounded ones Two different little girls, the same, in situation Born with every opportunity Until the adults came Again and again The little angels, in the alleyway Wide, new dreaming eyes, taking everything in, that we do n’ say Never be afraid to spread your angel wings and fly Songbirds back of the stage Things will be okay What made you feel this way? What can I do or say? Ain’t we the lucky ones, ‘Cus it won’t matter anymore? What we argued for, again and again Look to the angel doves Creating music in a cage All they want to do is sing and fly away Daddy’s’ memories, in a busted beeswax jar Special moments; singin’ songs, playin’ guitar Collectin’ caterpillars, Then they turn to butterflies Snow forts melting ‘way, then splashing round in the backyard Summer garden seeds and barefoot rooted wild dreams Artful angel monarchs fly Whirling, stirring stream around trees n’ sky Rebirth is the wild blue wonder, in both of your brilliant minds Will forgiveness and acceptance - for all of us - come in time? \ Ain’t we the lucky ones, that it won’t matter in the end, What we do or say again and again? It all won’t matter then, tomorrow or today Or in the end It all won’t matter in the end. What matters, after all, inside the end, throughout the means, We'll all as Frankie in the end