The small boy happily blows his pipe
and fills the air with bubbles
A childhood pleasure free from care
from life`s besetting troubles
And as each bubble floats away
brightly colored in the sun
His playmates leap and burst in turn
those bubbles one by one.

The old man sits and smokes his pipe
and thinks reflectively
Of days long gone and happy times
and how things used to be
How much in common he has got
unburdened by life`s troubles
Dreaming through the smoky haze
to when he was blowing bubbles.