Sun is beaming, outdoors' steaming
I have to stay aloof
Can't work outside; must stay inside
My heart's not weatherproof

Good plants wilt low; that's status quo
in this hot time of year
'less water's 'round to soak the ground
They'll up and disappear

But stuff inflates and proliferates
that HAS no liquid needs
those beds of clover taking over
those ******* shrubs and weeds

I'd wage a war; they'd learn the score
I'd see their kind decreases
I'd take my clips and trusty snips
and mince them up in pieces

But if I go out, the heat will shout
I'll wind up in my bed
My heart will flutter, race, then sputter
I'll likely wind up dead.

So, I must wait till temps abate
And I am feeling well
Then I'll go out without a doubt
And chop them all to hell