Buddy Bear’s collected dust and quarters for years, offering up smiles and laughs.
From the bowling alley to the old arcade, now he’s been left out for trash.
A playmate unplugged long scorched by the sun, there will be no more tickets to fun.
‘Til opportunity knocks one afternoon…
A bender. A swap meet. Two men and a truck.
Just down route sixteen, and somewhere up the Guadalupe… a small business booms, its cockeyed critter missing a tooth.
My little fellow inserts coin after coin, hurling ball after ball.
A father, a son, our glimmering eyes, with not a care in the world.
Evening falls when a grouchy man yells— tells us to leave his store.
But me and my son, hold back all our tears, instead making way for the door.
And Buddy Bear’s still smiling with twenty-seven quarters to play, while we take home a memory he can never take away.
