With every breath we’d take,
There was no mistake,
Citrus season was here again,

Cause that smell that spewed,
From that citrus plant ooze,
Was like nowhere else,
We’d ever been.

There were fruit stand venders
Along the road,
On the edge of town, all in a row,

And the trucks would roll by
With their heavy loads,
As we pumped our arms,
To hear their horns blow.

We’d leave for school
With our shoes on,
But just before we’d meet,
We’d take’m off and roll up our cuffs,
Cause tough kids
Went to school with bare feet.

And now it seems
It was more like a dream,
But I’m so glad I know,
I’ve got a good friend,
To talk about when,
It was many years ago.
No one I knew,
Had much money to spend,
Most of us lived on red clay roads.

But, no amount of money,
Could buy best of friends;
Friends from many years ago.

We’d be Ricky Nelson,
With our air-guitars,
In the mirror,
Try’n to look cool.

And we’d flip up our collars
Like rock’n-roll stars,
Singing, “Ooh-ooh, Poor Little Fool.”

And on 4th of July,
The whole town would meet,
Down by the lake,
The sky would light up,
And the earth would shake,
As we talked about,
Girls we’d like to date,

And now it seems
It was more like a dream,
But I’m so glad I know,
I’ve got a good friend,
To talk about when,
It was many years ago.
Yeah, it was many years,
So many years, many years ago.