Running Thoughts

They were called The Runners Four. Always slipping through the back door When they come ashore, Sneaking through their precious load, Cheating customs in a speedboat. When they come in from far away, Oh, they never can stay. They fly away to other skies With the sun in their eyes. Make their entrance two by two Bringing us a thought that's so new, Whistling secret tunes And smuggling through their precious smile, Breaking customs for a short while.