Summer In Poppy

Little village on the south side of Cape Cod
Some say the winds feel like a whisper from God
Some call it seaweed, some call it rocky
Some call it old, we just call it Poppy
Rented small houses, all my cousins
Uncles and aunts, we had a couple dozen
Sox on the radio, evening breeze
Watchin’ Evil Knievel in the ‘70s

 Summer in Poppy
Got me
Runnin’ down the beach, pretendin’ I’m Rocky
Buildin’ castles in the sand
Those waves are choppy
Almost stopped me
From body-surfin’ like my cousin Scotty
Laughin’ as we’re crashin’ back to land

Everyone had separate lives in the fall
But in the summertime, that didn’t matter at all
We were just sunburned, skin-peelin’, stupid teens
Splashin’ around in cutoff jeans
Pixie Sticks, Wiffleballs and bikes
Tryin’ to guess what kind of ice cream she likes
Playin’ the Beastie Boys, singin’ “Hey Ladies”
Watchin’ MTV in the mid-‘80s

Summer in Poppy
Got me
Lookin’ for a bonfire that’s hoppin’
Throwin’ footballs in the sand
I tried to copy
My cousin Scotty
Playin’ tunes like I’m a disc jockey
Pretendin’ I’m a grown man

Scotty passed away last year
My cousins and I grabbed stogies and beers
Went back down, had “Smoke on the Water”
Talked about our sons and talked about our daughters
Their posts seem so superfluous
But now and then, they look just like us
Goofin’ around on their bikes
We just hope that they can have something like

Those summers in Poppy
Got me
Runnin’ down the beach, thinkin’ I’m Rocky
Throwin’ footballs in the sand
Those waves are choppy
But don’t stop me
From body-surfin’ like my cousin Scotty
Even though I guess I’m now a grown man
Even though I guess I’m now a grown man
Even though I guess I’m now a grown man

CREDITS:

Lyrics: Terry Breakman
Music: Terry Breakman and Tracy Walton
Vocals: Jeff Przech
Engineer: Tracy Walton
Producer: Terry Breakman

©2026 Terry Breakman