When outswept arms were fighter planes
      And rulers flashing swords,
When cricket bats were tommy guns
      And ties garroting cords;

When wooden crates were rocket-ships
      And dustbin lids were shields,
When cans and string were telephones
      And back streets battlefields;

When benches in the park were tanks
      And tablecloths were tents,
When bamboo canes were Blackfoot bows
      And grown-ups made no sense;

When fallen trees were pirate ships
      And matches stolen toys,
We wished that we were full grown men —
      Who now wish we were boys.