Leaving Park

Invitation's always open
To a personal modern-day paradise
None of that fantastical fountain of youth-ing
No sugar, or spice, or everything nice

Let's go to Leaving Park today
Never a frightful repercussion
We'll swing on the swings of mediocrity
Go on the round-a-bout of social destruction

Skies that are always overcast
Dead leaves whisper in always-autumn air
Many visit and seldom leave
Yet there aren't many people there

Let's go to Leaving Park today
Such a pleasant place to be
We'll sit on the bench and eat old ice cream
Watching sick birds fall from dead trees

Consistently smells like fresh storm clouds
Some magically tragic place of lore
Where not even the murderous crows will flock
Who could dream to ask for more?