Young Writers Project: 'The Song That Sounds Like Blueberries'

Could you play that one song?
You know the one I’m talking about.
You know,
the one we blared from the car stereo,
with all the windows rolled down so all could hear,
the song we would play picking blueberries
in that all-natural,
weed-choked
berry farm.
I want to be reminded of the times
I would pick four flats to your two.
I want to remember the day
when I traversed the fields
to see where you were,
and to my horror and great amusement,
found that you were lying on your back
eating a spilled flat of berries
in all your sun-kissed glory.  
I want to envision our last day on the job,
you and I sitting on a picnic table,
gulping water and complaining about the smell of skunk.
Could you please play that song?
The one that reminds me of a summer well spent.