I grew up in a utopia, I did. California when I was a child was a child's paradise, I was healthy, well fed, well clothed, well housed. I went to school and there were libraries with all the world in them and after school I played in orange groves and in Little League and in the band and down at the beach and every day was an adventure.... I grew up in utopia.
Simon's band never actually produced any music. Mostly they sat around in Simon's living room, fighting about potential names and band logos. She sometimes wondered if any of them could actually play an instrument. 'What's on the table?' 'We're choosing between Sea Vegetable Conspiracy and Rock Solid Panda.' Clary shook her head. 'Those are both terrible.' 'Eric suggested Lawn Chair Crisis.' 'Maybe Eric should stick to gaming.' 'But then we'd have to find a new drummer.' 'Oh, is what Eric does?..
There is a place where the sidewalk endsAnd before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flightTo cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows blackAnd the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers growWe shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows goTo the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they knowThe place where the sidewalk ends.