There was a game we used to play
waiting for the time every day
when he would come to my door
and we would run to the moor
The game was a lot of fun
it was called hit and run
While he was the tough cop
with a fancy red cap on top
I was the smart theif
who would fool the sheriff
So i had to run from the tree
making sure i get their free
If i could get to the post
i would be intelligent most
but if on the way he could stop me
then victory was his to be
Everyday i would steal
and run as per our deal
I would run so hard and so fast
till i felt my lungs would blast
till my legs were cramped
and my way was jammed
My run was very good
but his hands were wood
that would hold me tight
for me to put a fight
I would struggle n cry
till throat went dry
I would pinch and bite
till my head felt light
As shrilly shrieks became soft cries
he would become my accomplice
He would slowly let his grip lose
look at his little muse
wait for a moment and look
into my eyes, reading a book
Then he would look at the post
in the background like a ghost
which would take me away
he could not make me stay
So he would let me go
in a motion so slow
n i would run like mad
to victory i wanted so bad
Just when i would jump at my gain
i would feel a sudden pain
pain for him who let me fly
n yet again i would cry
Standing at post looking at him
water in my eyes at its brim
he would smile n act it cool
n say that i am a tiny fool
But i know he sweared in his heart
that the post cannot set us apart
so i would run again to his surprize
to get my real bumper prize
He would open his arms for me
this time i would be really free
