“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 then 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 hug, girl of mine!
but little karen is counting trains
then nobody believes when she says:
-mon, dad! i promise, i do swear!
cross my heart i hear a train…
-don’t mind (that’s what they all say)
-she is just a little pretty girl
acting kinda strange…