| Enough room on the bench to sit us all,
|
| And based on the view where you sit, you pick a door,
|
| Waiting there que up your end like in a song,
|
| It plays out the roof of that Benz like this is yours
|
| This is yours right? |
| («It's yours!») forever and then a day,
|
| Leaning on it while you picture your destiny with a stray,
|
| Given time, spending time with destiny in the way,
|
| Finish time, finish lines is everything they proclaimed,
|
| I proclaim, that we was in line for it,
|
| Visionary riches baby, we got the eyes for it,
|
| Caught up in the trace should you leave your design on it,
|
| You look at your name like you should be down to die for it,
|
| Or live a little, spill a little and represent,
|
| Deal with a bottle the way you deal with the decadence,
|
| Or deal with a hollow the way you deal with the negligence,
|
| Like «you get in the know, or deal with the reload,»
|
| The feeling been the same since you filling in that role
|
| But still what a day
|
| What a day at the park
|
| What a day at the park
|
| It was a dreary day
|
| 'Til I stepped out
|
| Ice cream trucks passing us all
|
| Red ballon I’ll follow you
|
| Till the night comes back around again
|
| Comes back around again
|
| As I think to myself—
|
| —what a day at the park
|
| What a day at the park
|
| Said to make owning a roof part of a habit,
|
| But learned that sitting in rooms that didn’t have 'em,
|
| Heard that as getting your roof was all that mattered,
|
| All that to lift off the roof, could you imagine,
|
| The irony of the top being behind you,
|
| Be it the roof or the proof of who defied you,
|
| Or keeping your roof how you knew so that it hides you,
|
| Or see the recoup turn to coupes and it reminds you
|
| That killing the roof, make it easier to hear who applaud,
|
| Whether it’s «bravo yall» or airing at your car,
|
| Whether it’s «bravo yall», staring at your arms
|
| And how they can fit up under, how to live up the summer,
|
| The park and how it does us, is credit achieved,
|
| Same 456ing over Peddler Themes,
|
| Same view of intuition you was led to believe,
|
| Same shooters in position if you ever do need,
|
| And the feeling been the same since you been in that seat
|
| But what a day
|
| What a day at the park
|
| What a day at the park
|
| («—ark»)
|
| «What a day at the park»
|
| «What a day at the park»
|
| «Well! |
| This calls for a celebration!
|
| Yes, sir.
|
| Let’s have some Kool-Aid!
|
| Alright.» |