It was in the ice-cream parlour on the edge
of town,
Where we once jived all night & we all
hung around,
In pink bobby-socks, sloppy-Joes &
stovepipes tight,
Ponytail, hair-sprayed & swinging in striped
neon light,
Girls in petticoats stiff & guys with cool
greased quiffs,
With sassy swishes, skirts flying high in our
dancing lifts,
Hot dogs, sarsaparilla & milkshakes in hot
candy colours,
All paid back then in hard earned cents &
not in dollars,
Those Saturday nights in the drive-in, dusty
back seats,
Popcorn, stolen kisses & cuddling, our only
weekly treats,
Elvis Presley, Bobby Darren, Cliff & that
sweet Peggy Sue,
Gyrating hips, hot lips & those suede shoes,
so fast & blue,
Rocking & rolling to the flashing jukebox
in the café-diner,
No days since then, nor yet to come, could be
any so finer.
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