Morning

The morning crowd is spilling through
The air's alive
The sky is blue
I hum the tune
My shoes are new
There's sunshine on the strand
A postcard breeze
The papers thin
I'm writing dreams
I might begin
Each corner smiles as
I walk in
There's laughter close at hand
The world feels neatly rearranged
The ordinary
Somehow changed
And everything is pre-arranged
By sunshine on the strange
Oh
The days a meloy
Playing just for me
With sunshine on the strand