writer wilder engvick that year in oakland high when i was seventeen the grass from there to san jose was high and cool and green i see it now too brash and young was i to know what time could mean the old acacia lawn cut down was felt but never seen i see it now that world i knew is lost to me loves have come and gone the years go racing by i live as best i can and all at once i know it means the making of a man i see it now i see it now i see it now