on the western edge of townnthe grass is coming innand all of my good friendsnare waiting for the heat to warmnthe water in their poolsntheir sick and tired of schoolnnwinters gone along with our responsibilitiesnonce again we're freento roam the placenthat we have claimednour home and disagreenon the stupidest of thingsnnI can feel the end of something herenI've been dreading it for all these yearsnnwe have just weeksnto celebrate nour friendship and our youthnit's the last thing that we'll donbefore the stress of growing upnconsumes us and we stopnall our careless thoughtsnI wish that we could run awaynfrom plans and not look backnbut life changes so fastnthe future looms in front of usnand scares us half to deathnwe'll soon be silhouettes nnI can feel the end of something herenI've been dreading it for all these yearsnonce again were smiling when we hearnthat spring is coming earlier this year