Their swings open the rink shack door
Rosy cheeks and red noses galore
Toques and mittens all snowy and soft
Hair soaking wet plenty of sniffles and coughs
The wood stove always burning hot
Feet frozen solid as skates fall off
Thud thud thud
Again and again another sign
Tingling toes thawing by the fireside
Silver balls of lint cover the wool socks
Only if my old kangaroo leather skates could talk
Oh what memories of that old wooden shack
Maybe one day my kids can skate where I once sat