When the fall wind starts to creep in
And I’m made into a tattered piece of cloth
Where can I grasp
So I don’t blow away into the trash
When the winter snow falls to the ground
And I’m made into a starving dog
Where can I eat
So I don’t freeze to the bone
When the spring growth spurts
And I’m made into a bug allergic to color
Where can I stay
So I don’t choke myself
When the summer heat bakes t...