Its five o’clock,
The ice cream man knows,
As the kids run down the street
And stick their nose
Into the cart
To see the tasty treats,
That its dinner time.
“That cone is $2.”
“The bullet pop is three.”
Dinner is ruined,
The ice cream man knows,
As Mom rants and raves.
It will be okay,
Business is good.
Kids will be kids,
He smiles and thinks,
Tomorrow he’ll come
At four thirty instead.
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