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 the air

And I’m made into a rusted piece of metal

Where can I be

So I don’t burn sores into myself