in the hoods growing up was not an easy ride
i developed different colours behind which to hide
and I lost myself so much in the fa�ade
the colours were no longer part of a charade
every face became a part of me
every facet chained a heart to me
the place remained a hazy memory
i changed that pace before it made me crazy

blue and yellow when I was young
vertical stripes up to the sun
the zipper went up and the zipper went down
fun was never far from a frown
perfect for spring and autumn runs
and hanging out with my chums
i used to have a lot of �em
man we had so much fun
soccer and hockey, tag and hide�n�seek
we could play all day, we didn�t have to speak
laughing was the only communication required
running around until we were too tired 
blue and yellow when I was most joyous
but all that changed, it always does
growing up out of boyhood
I somehow lost that love

jet black and oversized
also with a zipper and pockets for surprises
take me through my crisis years
absorb and hold all my fears
left on a rock stage seven years ago
someone else is enjoying it now I hope
i replaced it just last month;
an impulse buy on my lunch break

lest I forget to mention the two greys
and I still wear one of them today
the first replaced the old black robe
left on that rock stage years ago
it was my new zippered cloak
with a black vest brother to sharpen the look
the second was the gift that keeps on giving
the principal piece of attire that I live in
the patchouli-scented pullover I go outside in
the perfect piece of clothing to hide in
I�ve always done the best that I could
To hide behind those coloured  hoods