Centennial

This is skin, you can wrap all of your arms and legs in An address that you know, an envelope unfolds I'm writing to catch up, we were small when we last met But the letters are unread, she's heard it on cassette Taught to read and write at such an early age The passenger is still, because she's got books on tape I'm running to catch up to that old VW You're leaning out the back You've never heard of fiction You've never heard of fact Way back when, we met because my parents knew your parents Steady hands, easy breath Old east side, parading all the rooftops of this town Little kids, intrepids I'm running out of space so let me sum this up for you I'm only wishing well And though you won't believe me This coming Thursday evening Is our Centennial