“SUCCESS is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.”
in a graceful, pretty old home
somewhere in north tulsa, oklahoma
little karen is counting dreams
instead of jumping sheeps…
sunny days and windy nights
with nothing else to share
but true love and blessedness,
hanging windows on her face
-wanna bid a quarter or a dime?
and little karen is counting stars…
-yeap! I just wanna a kiss, girl of mine!
and little karen is counting trains
nobody believes when she says:
-mon, dad! cross my heart I hear trains…
-don’t mind (that’s what they all say)
-she is just a little pretty girl
acting kind strange…