She's late again Grab your coat and then Wake mother from her slumber. Take her to the bus Because soon they'll be waiting at the corner. All the times She couldn't count if she tried On her second grade fingers Wishing to be with the snow covered trees In the fields of East Andover Late again What's the hurry then? Sometimes mother knows best. "The day's begun. Live it like your last one." In the fields of East Andover