Remember the ice cream van?

The ice cream van's jingle floated to our ears on the summer breeze

If we turned our childish heads slightly it was gone

So we stopped our football game in Mourne road circle

And craned our necks once more to catch the vanilla flavoured song

I turned my face into the wind slowly and suddenly it was there again

'He's Popeye the Sailor man, he lives in a caravan'

It drifted across the corporation house rooftops
In the street the kids paused their game of 'kick the can'

There was a pregnant pause as we analysed the acoustics
To see if the van was coming this time
A Mexican stand off to see who would break ranks first
before the mad dash home to get 10p for a 99

Some couldn't wait and and leapt over the green railings
An ice cream scatter ensued as the players sought money
'He opened the door and he fell down a shore'
The jingle drew closer and I could feel a gurgling ice cream yearning in my tummy

I clutched my money in my impish sweaty palm and stood on the skinny path
'He's Popeye the sailor man, toot toot'
The van pulled up and and the jingle ceased
And I squeezed to queue and claimed my spot with my monkey boot

We sat on the warm grass in the circle
And licked the cream as the red sauce along our knuckles ran
Then we laid on our backs and heard it again on the breeze
'He's Popeye the sailor man'