I begin my walk down Oakland Street

I see the apartments blue, yellow, green

I see my father, we approach to meet

I tell him my troubles, he is somebody on which I can lean

We enter the apartment, white with pink trim

We sit on the floor and play cards until ten

I stand up to leave, pause, act on a whim

I hug my father, I feel total zen

I feel no more sorrow, my thoughts are sweet

I finish my walk down Okland Street