I love a bag of water she calls herself a queen
she gave me many daughters and wanders like a stream
I love a little puddle she feels she is so deep
she frowns upon the grass she's killed and sings herself to sleep
I love a muddy river I had hoped she'd take me home
but she thought a little talked a lot and cut me to the bone
so I love an empty bottle that catches morning dew
transparent as she seems, I'm still unable to see through