Remember when we traded bikes?
Your Schwinn for my Huffy
I rode my bike home from your house
The seat felt higher
The handlebars were wider
And your tires made a different noise on the asphalt
I was so excited when I ran in the backdoor of my house
To tell my Mom we traded bikes
She sort of frowned over the pot of sauce
And told me to talk to my father
Who was changing out of his banker clothes
He came into the kitchen
And his face dropped behind his glasses
When I told him about the trade
I had to call your house
Using our rotary dial phone
With the 20 foot coil cord
And let you know what my father said
It turns out your father said the same thing
So I rode back to your house
In the dusk of June
We traded back and I headed home
I was feeling OK
Because my bike’s seat was the right height
The handlebars were not too wide
And the tires rolled along the asphalt
With just the right hum
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