Skin too hot
I'm a moth in a flame
I want to take a one way train
Somewhere colder

Maybe when I'm older
I'll understand the wasps
And why they sting so hard
No one likes a bard

Yet here I am
Must be a nuisance
To the ears of my enemies
Though I still consider most them friends

Wait til the week ends
Til theirs a new trend
They'll bring a patch
For my stung grasp

Let me sit in the grass
Ripping it off the ground
That's the only good I've found
When you are all around

Keep me by the dirt
My enemies lay here close
As they should be
The grass must be why they're all so
Green