The Old Days

Once in the old days
Before hands, face, space
And we were not castaways
Afraid to show our face


A French Market came to our town
Wine, cheese, baskets and bonjour
An occasion to put on our gown
But now all we say is au revoir


Will the old days reappear?
Will the sun again shine on our face?
And we can venture out without fear
And stop measuring space.