No Regrets

Lucy was 7 and wore a head of blue barettes<br>City born, into this world with no knowledge and no regrets<br>Had a piece of yellow chalk with which she`d draw upon the street<br>The many faces of the various locals that she would meet<br>There was joshua, age 10<br>Bully of the block<br>Who always took her milk money at the morning bus stop<br>There was Mrs. Crabtree, and her poodle<br>She always gave a wave and holler on her weekly trip down to the bingo<br>parlor<br>And she drew<br>Men, women, kids, sunsets, clouds<br>And she drew<br>Skyscrapers, fruit stands, cities, towns<br>Always said hello to passers-by<br>They`d ask her why she passed her time<br>Attachin lines to concrete<br>But she would only smile<br>Now all the other children living in or near her building<br>Ran around like tyrants, soaking up the open fire hydrants<br>They would say<br>"Hey little Lucy, wanna come jump double dutch?"<br>Lucy would pause, look, grin and say<br>"I`m busy, thank you much"<br>Well, well, one year passed<br>And believe it or not<br>She covered every last inch of the entire sidewalk,<br>And she stopped-<br>"Lucy, after all this, you`re just giving in today??"<br>She said:<br>"I`m not giving in, I`m finished," and walked away<br><br>(Chorus: x2)<br>1 2 3<br>That`s the speed of the seed<br>A B C<br>That`s the speed of the need<br>You can dream a little dream<br>Or you can live a little dream<br>I`d rather live it<br>Cuz dreamers always chase<br>But never get it<br><br>Now Lucy was 37, and introverted somewhat<br>Basement apartment in the same building she grew up in<br>She traded in her blue barettes for long locks held up with a clip<br>Traded in her yellow chalk for charcoal sticks<br>And she drew<br>Little bobby who would come to sweep the porch<br>And she drew<br>The mailman, delivered everyday at 4<br>Lucy had very little contact with the folks outside her cubicle day<br>But she found it suitable, and she liked it that way<br>She had a man now: Rico, similar, hermit<br>They would only see each other once or twice a week on purpose<br>They appreciated space and Rico was an artist too<br>So they`d connect on saturdays to share the pictures that they drew<br>(Look!)<br>Now every month or so, she`d get a knock upon the front door<br>Just one of the neighbors,<br>Actin nice, although she was a strange girl, really<br>Say, "Lucy, wanna join me for some lunch??"<br>Lucy would smile and say "I`m busy, thank you much"<br>And they would make a weird face the second the door shut<br>And run and tell their friends how truly crazy Lucy was<br>And lucy knew what people thought but didn`t care<br>Cuz while they spread their rumors through the street<br>She`d paint another masterpiece<br><br>(Chorus x2)<br><br>Lucy was 87, upon her death bed<br>At the senior home, where she had previously checked in<br>Traded in the locks and clips for a head rest<br>Traded in the charcoal sticks for arthritis, it had to happen<br>And she drew no more, just sat and watched the dawn<br>Had a television in the room that she`d never turned on<br>Lucy pinned up a life worth`s of pictures on the wall<br>And sat and smiled, looked each one over, just to laugh at it all<br>No Rico, he had passed, `bout 5 years back<br>So the visiting hours pulled in a big flock o` nothin<br>She`d never spoken once throughout the spanning of her life<br>Until the day she leaned forward, grinned and pulled the nurse aside<br>And she said:<br>"Look, I`ve never had a dream in my life<br>Because a dream is what you wanna do, but still haven`t pursued<br>I knew what I wanted and did it till it was done<br>So i`ve been the dream that I wanted to be since day one!"<br>Well!<br>The nurse jumped back,<br>She`d never heard Lucy even talk,<br>`Specially words like that<br>She walked over to the door, and pulled it closed behind<br>Then Lucy blew a kiss to each one of her pictures<br>And she died.<br><br>(Chorus x2)<br><br>1 2 3...<br>A B C...