An Ill Jest

Hey, flower, why do you grow so slow?
Does it spit for the sky? I love you so
Hold the soft hand of the red sun
And drift away until your troubles are done

Hey, mister, what troubles you so so
Did the porcupine (?)
(?) And I dream the skies
About the blue, blue, blue, blue, blue lights of the sky

Sweet-sweet bright, sweet-sweet bright
Hey, (?)
(?) To your (?)
I'll just, yeah, I'll just, yeah, yeah