She's late again
Grab your coat and then
Wake mother from her slumber.

Take her to the bus
Because soon they'll be waiting at the corner.

All the times
She couldn't count if she tried
On her second grade fingers
Wishing to be with the snow covered trees
In the fields of East Andover

Late again
What's the hurry then?
Sometimes mother knows best.
"The day's begun. Live it like your last one."
In the fields of East Andover