They flit around like butterflies,
Fortunately, they are as pretty as most too,
If they were not, God help them,
They would most likely be in the zoo.
If they mean yes, they say a no,
Sometimes they never let you go,
Most times give a high sometimes low,
Why, I wonder my head doesn’t blow.
Round and round the mulberry bush,
Twinkle twinkle little star; I know,
I don’t make any sense to you,
But try to remember, this is how they crow.
Their smiles, they light up the world,
Scowls, they fright down the world,
Words, they ignite the world,
Dear lord, this world, poor, poor world.