In spring time, some flowers are up and wide awake,
And some are still half asleep.
Rubbing their eyes.
(Or whatever it is that passes for eyes
when your just a plant)
Wondering where the coffee is?
But when they are wide awake,
What glory we behold.
And some are still half asleep.
Rubbing their eyes.
(Or whatever it is that passes for eyes
when your just a plant)
Wondering where the coffee is?
But when they are wide awake,
What glory we behold.
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