Soft in the lunch-grass, sweet and low,
Candy and I in the spring would go
Down to the creek past the bent-wire fence,
To dip bare feet in the cool

Candy and I were true best friends:
Sharing our dreams, and our odds and ends
From pockets and purses and Lord knows where
And talking 'bout people at school

The bent-wire fence looks about the same,
Candy grew up and changed her last name,
The creek is still pure and the springtime warm
And I still talk like a fool

'Cause the lunch-grass grows, like it's made to do,
Just like most every lie starts as something true,
And it's good to have friends when you're just a kid
For they get hard to find, as a rule