Bicycles have drifted through these leaves still wet with rain
August now has faded in the silence of the rain
I remember one Sunday, riding in through the gate
Three balloons in a white sky, 1978, la la la
Playgrounds where we spent our days
Return within our dreams, what it is, it isn't up to me
I've been driving in my car on Sunday in the rain
And my life is slipping so away
Bicycles have drifted through these leaves still wet with rain
August now has faded in the silence of the rain
I remember one Sunday, riding in through the gate
Three balloons in a white sky, 1978, la la la
Playgrounds where we spent our days
Return within our dreams, what it is, it isn't up to me
I've been driving in my car on Sunday in the rain
And my life is slipping so away