We were dreaming
On a lake
On a homemade raft
We were boys black and white
Friends have no colors
We were eight years old
A storm was brewing
The wind was coming up
Mom sent Sis dandy get home
I swam ashore
Bobby wanted to ride to other shore
I heard the firetrucks on the way home
the day Bobby drowned
I was fifteen the day I met Ivan
His parents were from Russia
He was born in America
We were in a cold war against Russia
Ivan hid in an abandoned home
The day his parents left for Russia
He was homeless and alone
Son of a drunk we comforted each other
One day the police knocked on my door
There had been an accident
I was the only one who could identify Ivan
I threw up and said, "That's Ivan!"
I was nineteen the day Perez and I were on the way to Racine
He was Puerto Rican and a minor league baseball player
We shared the dream of being in the major leagues
He played in the minor "AAA" for Pittsburg Pirates
In the Air force to get his citizenship
As we were about leave I was called to duty
The ambulance arrived at the accident scene
On the ground lay a body unrecognizable
We brought my friend back to the base deceased
My scipt is sometime cruel I was the amulance Aidman